Kissing the Enemy
by czarina-kathryn
Summary: Ever get the feeling the world is conspiring against you? That all of your worst nightmares are coming true? Welcome to my life or week anyway. Someone save me! And while you’re at it, get James Potter’s lips off of mine!
1. In Which Lily is Whooshed

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowlings'.

**Kissing the Enemy**

Chapter 1: In Which Lily is Whooshed

or

(Nifer's alternative title): In Which the Voices in Lily's Head Make her do Strange and Unusual Things

**ooo...ooo**

I'm not feeling very well today.

I wasn't feeling bad when I got up this morning though. In fact, I was feeling quite good. It was a bright fresh, lovely day. Nothing had gone wrong, and I had no reason to believe it would (with the exception of Transfiguration, but that always goes wrong).

And someone found my favorite hair tie and returned it to me! I was so upset when I lost it during Care of Magical Creatures yesterday. I'd searched everywhere, but I hadn't found it.

So, understandably, I was very happy that it magically made its way back to me.

"Today will be a good day," I said as I pulled my hair into a bun.

What a lie. I think I need to go back in bed.

It's not fair! I had a perfectly nice, pleasant, good morning started, and then the good-ness part didn't last past breakfast.

Actually, it only lasted until about half a minute ago, if I'm going to be exact about it.

I was just sitting here in my usual spot, munching contentedly on a banana, when _whoosh,_ something settled in my stomach like a rock. I hate _whooshes_. It's so annoying when something just hits you in a wave, settling into your body like a gush of water.

The whole thing is really odd, though, since I don't necessarily feel bad, I just feel ... off color.

Being my prudent self, I decided that I would skip the end of breakfast. It doesn't take a genius to see that both rocks and food won't fit into my stomach at the same time. Pity though, I'm kind of hungry.

Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I stood up. Then I promptly reeled to the right. Staggering I grabbed onto the table and held on for dear life.

Apparently the _whoosh_ has made me dizzy and off balance as well - how lovely.

I made my way out of the Great Hall without a single ounce of grace, meaning I ran into a good 10 people and the tables kept jumping into my path. Stupid tables.

It took me ages to get to Transfiguration, and when I did finally make it, I collapsed into my seat.

My head feels like it's swimming about 30 feet above my body. I don't think that's a good thing.

I let my head thunk onto the desk while I took a deep steady breath.

All I want are for these crazy maladies plaguing me to go away. I can't miss Transfiguration, I just can't. This is the one NEWT class that I'm as likely to fail as pass. Missing a class would murder any chances I have to scraping something other than a T. T for Troll. I'm not a Troll! I refuse to even consider it!

If I can just hold on for another 2 hours, I can skip Charms and go collapse in the hospital wing and let Madam Jeffries take care of me. Well ... try to take care of me. I have one of those sneaking suspicions that there's a reason she doesn't work at St. Mungos (Not that she isn't very nice ... but nice just doesn't cut it for a healer).

My stomach gave a violent lurch, like someone was jerking it out of my body toward the Slytherin dungeons. I desperately dug my hands into my cloak, trying not to concentrate on the odd sensations that were traipsing along my nerves. These feelings really are too odd. It's not like they're painful, but it feels like some sort of foreign substance is flowing through my veins, twisting with my blood, attuning me like a muggle antenna to some unknown force.

I jerked my head up in surprise as, with an abrupt and final turn of my stomach, I suddenly felt better. Or maybe my body was just giving me a break before the real problems started? I looked suspiciously down at my stomach.

"You aren't going to be giving me a problem are you?" I asked quietly.

"Talking to yourself, dear Lily? Hardly seems fitting for my most esteemed Head Girl," James Potter, the most 'esteemed' (ha ha, yeah right) Head Boy, said, putting his hand on my shoulder. And who was he calling "his" Head Girl? He's lucky I'm not bashing his head in right now.

But honestly, out of all the people who could have walked in while I was chatting it up with my stomach it had to be him. It just had to be because I can never do anything remotely embarrassing without him being there, can I? It's some sort of insane rule, isn't it? Everyone's after me, aren't they? This is all just one huge giant plot to land me in the nearest insane asylum. I Know It Is!

Ahem ... back to a more logical mind set.

While I had been pondering the aforementioned conspiracy theory, Mr. Potter had some how managed to lean over my shoulder, so as to be in such a position where he could look into my eyes. It bears mentioning that in this position he did manage to look surprisingly similar to a twisted sort of Brontosaurus because without that information you just wouldn't understand my next sentiment.

I hate Brontosaurus'. Absolutely loathe them.

Alas, I decided not to dwell on that; after all, I had much more important things to do. Like tell off one Mr. James Potter for no particular reason (plus the whole "my Head Girl" thing). I unconsciously straightened my shoulders and sat up farther in my chair as I prepared to make my speech. It was going to be impressive too. Unfortunately the whole straightening and sitting up thing caused the chair to shift a bit.

Shifting a bit isn't so much of a problem, unless you're in the middle of imitating a Brontosaurus; then things get a _little_ complicated.

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head in surprise as Potter was thrown forward onto my shoulder, sending me sprawling onto my desk. I don't know how he managed it (I really don't), but as he tripped over my chair and started to fall toward me he actually looked kind of cute.

This I can attest to because I had somehow managed to twist over while I was falling and landed on my desk so I was facing Potter (and, thus, got an eyeful of his rather adorable fall). I threw my hands up to try and catch him. Not that I had any chance of supporting him, but I figured it was my civic duty to at least try.

"Mr. Judge, Sir, I _did_ try to save him." That sounds really good. I betcha 10 galleons I could win that case.

My hands, of course, met uselessly with Potter's chest as he landed flat on top of me.

I've always had the sneaking suspicion that my desk is rather rickety. It just looks old and sort of spindly. Of course, it chose that moment, when James Potter and I were lying on top of it, to prove me right. Sorry, sadistic, piece of sh ... shoelace desk.

You hear that mom? I didn't cuss ... even in my head where you can't possibly hear me, but just in case ... and even if I had, this is the sort of situation that warrants a good deal of vulgar language.

As we tumbled to the ground in a whirlwind of wood splinters, parchment, and limbs, I knew that today was not my day. You may think that is because I've just broken a desk, but I'm afraid that's not quite it. Ordinarily after breaking a desk (although, I've never actually broken one so I'm just guessing here) I would be creatively cursing up a storm, desperately avoiding actual curses in case my mom was listening.

Unfortunately any cursing (creative or actual) is rather impossible at the moment, due to the fact that I most certainly, absolutely, and without a doubt have James Potter's lips pressed to mine.

Someone save me!

The whole thing happened in that grotesque sort of slow motion you see in movies, and I'm still not sure how his lips contrived to wound up on my own. I'm quite positive that I must have blinked or something because one second his lips were where they were supposed to be, namely no where near my own, and the next, they were right where they weren't supposed to be, on my lips.

So right now I'm lying here looking up into his eyes, feeling slightly detached from the whole situation. This has got to be a surreal as life gets. Me kissing James Potter. James Potter kissing me. Yeah ... surreal.

It's actually kind of amusing watching him struggle to push himself away. Honestly, am I that great of a kisser? I don't think so, seeing as I'm not even moving. Nope, not a whit. I'm just lying here pretending I've been petrified and pretending that this really isn't happening. I think I'm actually doing a pretty good job of it.

What the heck! There are invisible strings attached to my head! Someone really needs to save me now! I swear there must be invisible strings. I don't know how else it could have happened. James pulled his head up and my head went up too. It went up! I didn't tell it to go up! What was it doing? I'm going to die of embarrassment because to the casual observer (and James), this would make it seems as though I don't want our lips to break apart. This can't be happening! I need to be detached from him right now!

Desperately, I reached up and stuck my hand on his forehead, and with all of my might managed to shove his face off mine. Our lips pulled apart with an audible pop and he rolled off of me, panting slightly. I've just realized that I'm panting as well.

Oh dear Gods above, I'm panting. I'm going to die of embarrassment. I can feel my face turning a lovely scarlet color as I sit here. This can't be happening. What if someone saw that? I frantically looked around the room and to my relief saw that it was empty.

Quickly drawing on my righteous anger at being kissed by the likes of James Potter, esteemed Head Boy or not, I turned to give him a very eloquent lecture on all of the reasons he is a ... a ... a very nice kisser ... NO!

Who said that? Who's in my mind? I know you're there! Get out! He most certainly is not in the least a good kisser, and besides I obviously don't have the research done to make a good base for such a conclusion. I would need a least 5 or 6 more kisses ... I'm just going to stop now. I can't believe it. I've now even managed to embarrass myself in front of my own brain.

Back to what I was saying before; I was going to give him a lecture on anything except for him being a very nice kisser, but at that exact moment, Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom. I've always liked her. She's such a nice perceptive lady. All she had to do was look at the two of us sitting on the floor, panting and (in my case) red as a tomato and she turned around and walked right back out into the hall. Gods, I love that women.

I scrambled to my feet as soon as she left and watched as Potter did the same, tripping a bit over his robe. I grabbed his arm to steady him and once he got his feet solidly on the ground, I turned toward him so we could get our story straight.

Betcha I could have measured the space between our heads with my pinky finger. Ironic isn't it? I think my depth perception must have taken a flying leap out of the window today.

I tried to pull back, but some sort of invisible force was holding my head in place. Not only was it holding my head there, but it was also drawing me toward James Potter!

Help!

James appeared to be panicking, but using his incredibly impressive reasoning skills, he figured a way out of our problem.

I would like to note that I am being sarcastic, and I think that his reasoning skills ought to be condemned to the deepest depths of hell.

Or better yet, what's beneath hell?

So what was Mr. Potter's Brilliant Plan? Why, it was quite astounding and thought provoking; he simply put his hands on my shoulders and shoved me away. I probably would think more highly of his plan if he had incorporated the fact that my chair was lying directly behind me into it.

Unfortunately, he didn't and I felt my heart sink through my toes as my feet caught on the chair and my balance abandoned ship. I fell backwards and the hard wooden edge of the desk behind mine dug into my butt ... but only for about 3 seconds or so.

I suppose you're saying, "Well, that's a good thing."

But it's really not. It's a horribly bad thing, since the reason it's not digging into my butt is that its splinters are digging into every other bit of me. Who would have thought the desk behind me was even more rickety than my desk?

I have to say I always thought it looked more stable, but I guess not.

Oh, there is one good thing to mention though. I don't suppose you've ever seen a table under pressure give into the stress by shooting one of it's legs across the room, have you? Five seconds ago exempted, neither have I. But I would like to set aside one moment to tell you that Mr. James Potter just got what he deserved for shoving me, in the form of a flying ballistic table leg ramming into his stomach. Hehehe.

Ah yes, so there I was lying in the middle of a scrap wood pile, watching with a sort of morbid fascination as James Potter valiantly tried not to curl into a ball on the floor, when McGonagall walked back in.

She raised an eyebrow and said, "I suppose the next time I come back in the whole room will be demolished."

James, who was wheezing, looked up from where he had collapsed on the floor and choked out, "Probably." McGonagall nodded and pulled out her wand. With a flick she put my desk back together.

I wonder if she's had practice with that?

She looked pointedly at me and I realized she couldn't get this desk back together when I was lying in it's wreckage. I scuttled out of the debris zone on my hands and knees, worried that if I got up I'd break something else. I hesitantly used my desk to pull myself up as McGonagall fixed the second desk and made her way to the front of the room.

"Thank you, Professor," I said shakily.

But I had a right to be shaky. I mean, you would be shaky too if James Potter had just kissed you and then nearly kissed you again. And NO, I don't mean that kind of shaky, I mean the repressed rage kind of shaky.

"Anytime Miss Evans," McGonagall said, walking by me. I looked down and my eyes widened.

Oh Holy Mother of Cheese Whiz, my skirt is nearly hiked half way up my thigh!

I hurriedly made to fix it, looking at James to make sure he wasn't ogling me or something. I suppose that while I did this I must have taken a step backwards. It was just rather hard to see James since he was behind me and all, so taking a step closer to him would have been logical.

If only I had remembered that my chair was still lying there on the floor. I really don't like that chair. I felt my foot snag on the chair in a deja vu moment and all I had time to do was yelp before I was tumbling, arms flailing, down to the floor.

Guess what? I didn't quite make it to the floor.

I know what you're thinking, "Oh, James must have caught her."

Well he didn't. I more caught him, by surprise I mean. I landed smack on top of him while he was trying to get off the floor. He probably could have gotten out of the way. After all, you can't even be a decent Quidditch player without good reflexes (and I'll even admit he's a fantastic player), but he didn't use them. I guess he was being a gentleman or something, letting me fall on him.

Alright, alright, I admit I'm slightly grateful for his willingness to be my cushion.

James groaned as we hit the ground, I guess screaming in pain is too much of a girly thing. I, however, didn't feel too much since he is a very effective cushion.

I am now left in a bit of a predicament, though. I have managed to balance myself over him so a very little amount of my weight is resting on him, but I can't move because if I do I'll end up sitting on him or elbowing him.

I'm not panicking though.

No, I'm not.

Not in the least.

Alright, I'm panicking.

Moving as quickly as possible, I attempted to maneuver my left leg over to where my right leg was. This might have worked, really, it had possibility, but then again the fact that the floor under my right leg was kind of slippery also had possibility.

How come when ever it's a fight between me and the floor, the floor always wins? I felt my foot slip out from under me and I twisted my other leg, trying to regain my balance which some how ended up with me crashing head first onto James Potter. Now where did this put me?

Why, of course, it put my lips right on top of his!

**ooo...ooo**

Hey! It's my new fic to celebrate summer. I hope you like it. Please review if you have time!

Daystar: Thanks for reading it over! Soo ... are you working on your letter? Are ya? hehe.


	2. In Which Lily is in Distress

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 2: In Which Lily is in Distress

or

In Which Lily Breaks a Desk ... Again

Where we last saw our heroine:

Why, of course, it put my lips right on top of his!

**ooo...ooo**

How silly of me to even think I could have landed on his chest or on his shoulder or even on his neck for crying out loud!

So I stayed there, lying on top of him, lips attached for a good 3 seconds, trying to figure out how in the world this had happened when James apparently decided that being a gentlemen was over rated.

You may be asking how I came to this conclusion ...

Well, truthfully, it was actually quite obvious when he rolled us over so he was on top and started kissing me like I was oxygen and he was a drowning man.

I couldn't help it; I had to kiss him back.

It's just that I've been feeling rather crazy since his lips first touched mine and maybe if I kiss back, it'll stop.

Just to let you know, I happen to think self delusion is a grand thing.

I was so caught up in his smell and how soft his lips were, I barely even registered McGonagall's voice in the background saying, "Really children, couldn't you take that else where?"

James didn't pay her any mind, so consequently neither did I. He just continued pressing kisses to my lips and running his hands feverishly through my hair. It's going to be wreck when he's through. I hope I still have that extra hairbrush in my bag.

What finally split us apart was a loud wolf whistle from the door way.

James pulled back from me, looking slightly surprised. He removed one of his hands from my hair and never taking his eyes from mine, shot his best friend a rather rude hand gesture.

Finally able to breathe ... and think ... I inched out from under him and used the desk to pull myself to my feet. I cannot believe I kissed _him_. I'm going to die of embarrassment. Refusing to meet anyone's eyes, I carefully made my way back to my desk.

Once I arrived, I grabbed on for dear life and watched as other students began filing into the room. At least they hadn't seen me and James. Just thinking of the mortification made me shiver with horror.

Stepping with care I made my way around my desk to pick up my chair. I bent down to get it, but before I could grab it a pair of very nice strong hands grabbed it for me. I honestly didn't process who's hands they were until I looked up into James' hazel eyes.

In fact, that was pretty much all I saw since I found myself instantly kissing him. It was the oddest thing. I hadn't meant to kiss him. I'd just lifted my head to find it a good few inches from his and then we were kissing.

Normally kissing requires a good deal closer proximity than a few inches and I am quite sure that neither of us moved. Quite odd. I tried to pull back, but found I couldn't.

Oh dear. I struggled back more forcefully, but I could feel James start to fall toward me, so I stopped. Good Gods, I could see it now. He would fall into me and we'd tumble down onto my desk and break it ... again.

Luckily I've thought ahead, so that wouldn't be happening. Unfortunately I wasn't thinking far enough ahead to stop another one of Potter's Panicky Plans.

He pulled back hard, tugging me with him, _just_ as I predicted, except it was his fault (the stupid git), not mine. I tripped spectacularly over my chair, flinging my arms out trying to stay balanced. Of course, it didn't work and I went tumbling into his chest, which is _very_ nice, but that's not important since James lost his balance as well and we went tumbling onto the desk behind us.

Funnily enough that desk isn't any sturdier than it was last time I fell on it. It shattered with a lovely little crash. We tumbled to the floor and upon our rather rough impact with the ground; I bounced off James' chest and landed rather hard on my rear, just outside of the debris.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Evans, control yourselves and STOP destroying my desks!" McGonagall shouted half-heartedly as James rolled to his knees and crawled to his desk.

I struggled to my feet as James hoisted himself into his chair and turned to his best friend, who had taken the seat beside his and said, "I don't think today's my day."

Sirius howled with laughter. "Au contraire mon ami!"

James raised his eyebrow. "How did you learn French?"

The bell rang as McGonagall fixed the desk behind mine for the second time. The _second_ time! I've broken 3 desks today. Three!

I think I'm going to have a panic attack. Great, now McGonagall's glaring at me. I guess I'm just going to have to postpone that panic attack.

Calmly maneuvering around my chair, which was back on the ground, I picked it up, set it firmly on the ground, and smartly sat down.

Alright, lets be truthful; I am not calm. I will not be calm for a very long time. In fact, I will probably never ever be calm again. But I'm sure I've mentioned I'm into self-delusion, so I'm going to pretend anyway.

At least my stomach doesn't hurt anymore. No, I take that back because I don't want to look at the bright side right now. I am pretty darn well set up here on the complaining and moping side and you can't make me leave. So HA!

Oh dear, did I say that HA out loud? Oops, must have. I'm having such a bad day.

Seeing that McGonagall had turned to write something on the chalk board, I let my head thunk down on my desk. I wish I were invisible. I need to find a potion or, better yet, a charm that will do that.

"I don't think today's my day," I whispered to myself.

"Au contraire mon amie," someone whispered back and I nearly shot out of my chair. I whipped around to see that my best friend Ally had taken the seat beside me. I let out a huge sigh. Goodness, she'd scared me, I hadn't even realized she was there.

Great, not only did kissing Potter make me into Miss Klutz, I am now Miss Unobservant/Blind.

"When did you learn to speak French?" I shot back suspiciously, more annoyed that I hadn't noticed she was there than actually wanting to know.

Ally just smiled this annoying smile that she seems to be wearing constantly as of late and said, "Nowhere."

Nowhere my foot! I bet she's taking lessons. Ok, that was kind of obvious, wasn't it? I guess Miss Obvious needs to be added to that list of new problems I have. I rolled my eyes, partly at myself and partly at 'nowhere' (Just to let you know, no where should be said with an appropriately squeaky and annoying voice that best fits the stupidest person you know. Why? Because it's 20 times stupider than that person and I hate it!).

Ahem, so I've decided to go back to ignoring the world. It's working pretty well right now. I'm imagining that I'm in a nice tropical place which is most certainly _somewhere,_ and has no James Tristan Potter anywhere near it. He's actually on the other side of the world, the exact geographical other side. Merlin, fantasies like this are so pleasant.

On my next venture into the world to see what everyone was doing, I discovered that we were supposed to be transfiguring rocks into rabbits. I'm not even going to bother trying. With my luck, I'd probably end up with a fire-breathing dragon or something equally unpleasant.

"Miss Evans, I understand that you'd rather not tempt fate anymore today," McGonagall said, patting my shoulder, "But I really must insist that you at least make an attempt at the transfiguration. I'm sure Potter will save you if it turns out too badly."

I could feel my ears heating up as she walked away. It wasn't like I _meant_ to kiss him or anything. In fact, the only reason I had kissed him was because I have some crappy invisible strings tying my head to his.

Umm ... so I might be going slightly insane and I might also be a bit paranoid, but there are worse things, like fire-breathing dragons.

I looked reluctantly at my rock, then I looked at Ally's bunny. She was scratching it's ears.

There is no way I'll ever be able to do this.

"It's not hard, Lily," Ally said.

I know she's trying to help, but I hate it when she says that. It always makes me feel even stupider when I can't do it. Feeling rather doubtful as to what the outcome of this attempt would be, I half-heartedly waved my wand. I know I used the correct incantation and the correct wand movements, I always do. They just never work. It's so vexing. I've worked with McGonagall on it and she can't figure out what I'm doing.

Heck, I'm so desperate I even willingly worked with Potter on it and _he_, self-proclaimed Transfiguration Master of us All, couldn't figure it out. McGonagall's been surprisingly helpful about the whole thing though, she always makes sure to include a few questions on the practical exams that are only wand movements and not the actual transfiguration of things. It's that and that alone that keeps me from miserably failing this class.

I watched with a detached interest as my rock disappeared.

"Well done," I congratulated myself, "Nothing terrible happened."

Then with a loud pop, a giant sunflower in a nicely engraved clay pot appeared on my desk. That wasn't bad; I like sunflowers.

Then it turned to look at me. Alright, moving sunflowers are nice, even if they have beady little eyes that are kind of creepy.

Then it snarled, showing it's rather viscious looking teeth.

I've decided that I don't like this sunflower very much and I have the sneaking suspicion that it might be carnivorous.

I threw my hands up in front of my face as it lunged at me. Before it had a chance to use my arms for chew toys, I was knocked out of my chair by a particularly heavy person. (Three guesses who.)

I'm not trying to be rude by insulting his weight or anything, but since he landed on top of me I think I'm allowed to complain a bit. He might not ordinarily be considered 'heavy', but when he's launched himself at you, forcibly knocked you out of a chair, and pinned you to the floor, he's pretty darn heavy. I'm going to have some lovely bruises come tomorrow ... darn carnivorous sunflower, this is all its fault.

James (yes, for those smart people out there who guessed James, you were right) rolled off of me and I gratefully took a gulp of air. The sunflower turned to snap at Ally and she scrambled out of her chair.

James fumbled his wand out of his pocket from where he was lying on the floor and with a very impressive flourish of his wand yelled, "Immobulus!"

The sunflower froze and Ally took that as an opportunity to dash back to the table and grab her bunny before retreating again. James turned to me and I opened my mouth to thank him and then his lips were on mine. I swear I hadn't thought we were that close.

I shoved James away, using all of my strength and our lips jerked apart. The momentum of my shove slid me across the well polished, slightly slippery floor, and under my desk. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the underside of the desk. Who would have thought that giant potted carnivorous sunflowers weigh so much?

At least I'm assuming that's what the growing cracks on the underside of my desk mean. This just isn't my day, is it? Sighing heavily, I rolled myself out the other side of the desk. I'd just cleared the edge when the whole thing came collapsing down. I rolled a few more turns away and then stopped.

I decided that perhaps the best solution to all of this was to pretend it wasn't happening. So I just lay there and examined the interesting array of spit balls on the ceiling while people bustled around and tried to clean up my mess.

I heard James cursing loudly while Sirius laughed. Apparently the sunflower had gotten a hold of James' leg. I would have turned to look, but I'm kind of getting paranoid about Potter. Why do I always end up kissing him? Well not always, but today. In fact, I've never kissed him except for today.

Wow, what a story that will be for the grand kids, "Yes, children, our first kiss was when we accidentally broke a desk and fell on top of each other." That would just go over so well.

Wait! Hold on, back up, rewind, pause!

Who in the world said we were going to have grandkids? Because if I recall correctly to have grandkids one must first have kids and in order to have those one would have to be ... well at the very least on good relations with the other parent of said kids, and I am not having good relations of that sort (or any sort) with James Potter!

What a laugh, me, Lily Marie Evans, having kids with Potter. Oh boy, that's about as likely as ... as McGonagall deciding to wear her hair down! Speaking (or thinking really) of McGonagall, her head has just appeared in my field of view. I guess she wishes to speak with me.

"I think I need to leave," I told her in a whisper.

"How does the Hospital Wing sound?" She asked.

"I'm not sick."

"I realize that Miss Evans, but you need to leave and Mr. Potter needs to go to the Hospital Wing, so I thought we could simply combine the two."

I nodded before I even thought about it. McGonagall has a way of doing that to you. She simply presents an idea to you in such a matter of fact voice that you can't help but agree. As I sat up, I realized that I'd just sentenced myself to a tramp through the halls, alone, with Potter. Ugh. I feel like knocking my head into something hard, and preferably smooth.

I looked at the floor, hmmm ... that could work.

Before I could try it out, I was jerked to my feet by the back of my robes. After I got my feet under me, the hand let go and I primly brushed off my robes. I turned around to see, of all people, Sirius Black, James' best friend, looking at me. I blinked a few times.

He didn't magically disappear. I guess he must be real.

"Ordinarily," he began, "I'm the one who takes James to the Hospital Wing when he gets himself hurt."

"Ok ..." I said, when he didn't seem inclined to continue.

"There are some things you need to know if you're going to properly do this monumental task. First, even if he says he's ok, he's not. In fact, he's especially not. Second, don't let him convince you to sneak him out of the hospital wing. Those sorts of things just never work out the way you plan. Third, if he gives you a problem like, stopping and refusing to continue because he doesn't want to go, or pretending he's forgotten some large essay he needs to complete before taking a trip to the Hospital Wing, remind him that you know about the Soybean Incident."

"Soybean Incident?" I interjected.

"What it is isn't important," Sirius said, with a casual wave of his hand, "Just keep it in mind. Yes, so fourth, if he tries to run away you need to remind him of why he is going to the Hospital Wing. The easiest way to do this is to kick, punch, poke, and/or scratch him in the area he's injured himself, this time being his leg. The pain that this reminder causes him will convince him that the Hospital Wing really is his best option."

There was an impatient cough from James, who was leaning by the door, his leg bleeding rather profusely on the floor.

"Right, I'll skip to the end of things then. Finally, if he claims that he is too weak to continue and would simply like to die on the floor in peace, remind him that if he dies he will never see you again."

"Me?"

"Works like a charm; he perks right up."

I looked at Sirius feeling at a loss. Does he actually expect me to believe that James sees me as a reason to live?

"Well, get going," he said, with a shooing motion.

I guess I'll have to ponder later. It seems a bit far fetched though. After all, it's not like we're madly in love or something.

**ooo...ooo**

Thanks for reviewing! If you feel so inclined, I would appreciate it if you reviewed again. Hopefully I'll have a new chapter up soon!

**Lorwyn Daystar** - Yes, you should go edit the rest of my fic. Then I could post it before smart camp. BUT before you edit the fic you should most certainly and without a doubt finish your letter because I'm bored and have nothing to do and you pinky promised! I think the new title is stupid, but no one would get the title except for you and me, so I figured I had to change it. Why I chose something so cliched, though, is beyond me.

**crazie4areason** - Yes, I will be writing more. I actually have about 15,000 words already typed up. I'm just waiting for my beta reader to get through them.

**The Big Dance** - Well it's not actually a one chapter fic, but it's also not exactly going anywhere specific. Well ... it's going somewhere ... it's just the where part that's a mystery. I'd be happy to read your fics sometime, but I have to warn you I'm a terrible reviewer. I usually manage about one line before I completely loose track of what I wanted to say.

**sumrandumperson** - Nope, not a one shot.

**Withered Quill** - Thanks. I love J/L too!

**Queen Elizabeth I **- Thanks a REALLY REALLY REALLY lot! (Sorry, I couldn't resist; really's are just so much fun.)

Thanks for reviewing! - **portmanroxmysoxs, BEATLESROCKSODOESHP, passionflower24, CC, cath-a2ff, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, fae, drumer girl, cuddlyjill**


	3. In Which Lily Exercises her Reflexes

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 3: In Which Lily Exercises her Reflexes

Or

(Nifer's Alternative Title): In Which Lily and James Take a Trip to the Hospital Wing

Where we left our heroine:

I guess I'll have to ponder later. It seems a bit far fetched though. After all, it's not like we're madly in love or something.

**ooo...ooo**

I made my way over to Potter and helped him swing his arm over my neck. I held on to his forearm tightly trying to help support him. He wobbled and I desperately grabbed at his waist with my other arm, wrapping it tightly around him. It felt nice, very nice; pleasant even.

What was that? I was joking about the madly in love thing, does my arm realize that? It's not supposed to feel nice around his waist. Stupid arm can't even get the simplest of things right.

Ignoring my arm as best I could, Potter and I hobbled down the corridors like an injured animal of some sort. Poor Potter, this really isn't his day. First the table leg and now this.

Hey, I just had the most brilliant idea!

Fact, Potter keeps getting hurt around me.

Assumption, he'll now associate pain with being around me.

Hope, he'll be trained to avoid me and, thus, avoid pain!

It's brilliance; it's pure genius!

This sort of thing worked with dogs didn't it? It was that Pavlov dude. He rang a bell whenever he fed his dogs and eventually whenever he rang a bell they'd start to drool, even if he didn't feed them. What's it called … conditioning! I'll condition Potter!

I know it'll work with Potter too, it's not like he's too much smarter than a dog.

Fine, he's slightly smarter than the average dog.

I had actually managed to develop a rhythm of sorts for our crazy little walk, step, drag Potter a bit, step, leave Potter behind a bit, step, bring Potter along a bit ... and so on. It was working pretty well until I realized Potter was being left farther and farther behind me.

Puzzled I really looked at him and what I saw was definitely not good. His breathing was becoming terribly labored and raspy, seeming to rattle in his chest and his face was as pale as Nearly Headless Nick. He was losing too much blood. I twisted to look over our shoulders and I saw we were making a bloody trail through the hall. Good Gods, there had to be pints of blood in this corridor alone.

I felt a tendril of panic moving up my spine as I realized we needed to move faster or else I'd have an unconscious James Potter on my hands.

"Potter, you aren't going to pass out, are you?" I asked. Stupid question, I know, but I couldn't think of anything more subtle.

"Not just yet, Evans," he said, sounding terribly strained. Like his voice was barely making it out of his mouth.

I took his answer, put it through my handy dandy Potter B.S. Translator, and I figured out that he really meant he'd be passing out any minute now.

Darn it!

Wait ... if he passed out, he'd be inanimate. While that may seem to be a fairly obvious fact, it is actually of the utmost consequence because when something is inanimate a lovely levitating charm works wonders on it. To do a levitating charm on an animate thing, lets just use James Potter as an example here, to do a levitating charm on Potter one would have to possess not only a supreme mastery of charms (which I have), but also a nearly limitless power source (which I kind of don't have, although I'm loathe to admit it). Levitating inanimate objects is no sweat for any ho-hum witch or wizard, but animate objects ... that's another story all together very few people can do that and even then, not for long.

I suppose that's another one of the reasons Potter bothers me so much, I'm jealous. I don't understand where he gets all his power from. Heck, he levitates people just for fun and doesn't even break a sweat. If he ever put his mind to it he could do ... anything. I hate it when people don't live up to their potential. But I suppose it won't matter over much seeing as unless Potter passes out in the next minute or so, he's going to die of blood loss before I can get him to the hospital wing.

I snuck a look at Potter as we feebly made our way down the corridor. He really is a stubborn idiot. Occasionally, I'll grudgingly admire that about him, but now is not one of those times. Judging from the set look on his face, he's probably going to be able to hang on for another good 10 minutes ... then he'll pass out and die.

If I levitated him we could be at the Hospital Wing in 45 seconds flat. Well maybe a little longer seeing as I'd have to stop my dead out run before we got to the Hospital Wing for appearances sake. After all, I wouldn't want Madam Jeffries to know I might actually care if Potter died. Then again, I might be able to pass it off as casual interest since he saved my life. I bet she would buy that.

Potter let out a moan of pain and I was forced back to my problem of how to get him to pass out. I could ... curse him, I guess ... or kick him in the leg, but that would really hurt him ... and I'd get blood on my shoes. I like these shoes.

I stopped our forward shuffle and turned towards Potter. I think I'm just going to curse him. A nice gentle swish of my wand and he'll be on his way to the Hospital Wing.

I felt a pang of guilt; who am I kidding? This is going to cause him severe pain.

"I'm sorry, Potter," I said, and kissed him right on the lips. I figure this is the least I can do. Maybe he'll be so distracted by the dubious pleasure of kissing me he won't notice how much pain he's in.

I gently ran my hand down his cheek and he pulled me closer to him. Apparently James doesn't let a little thing like immense blood loss affect his joy in kissing. He's such an idiot sometimes; have I mentioned that lately?

I stealthily moved my wand up behind his back and for unknown reasons Potter took my movement as a sign he should start kissing along my jaw line.

_Please, don't let him open his eyes! _I shot my prayer up to any deities who were within hearing range. If he did, he'd see me trying to suppress the urge to kick him in the shin.

It's not my fault that I've been trained to kick sense into men. Especially extra nice and good looking ones ... ahhh! I was distracted. This is all Potter's fault, he needs to stop distracting me, although, it is kind of nice this distraction, but that's not the point. He's going to DIE! And that is the point.

I really ought to be thankful that he's not kissing me on the mouth anymore anyway. Seeing as I have to open my mouth to say the incantation and that could get slightly uncomfortable.

I moved my wand in a quick circle and was just about to say the incantation when Potter's lips moved down to my neck. I guess he took the jaw thing as a good sign. Unfortunately for him, there was little I could do to stop my reflexes at that point because I don't let anyone (especially someone who I was only kissing to make up for cursing) kiss their way down my neck.

As my foot connected with his leg I realized a split second too late that I'd kicked his injured leg, which was, needless to say, not a good thing.

James let out a strangled cry that sounded distinctly like a dying hippogriff and collapsed on the ground unconscious.

At least he's not kissing my neck anymore.

Poor baby. Really poor me, though, since he's going to kill me when he gets up.

Oh well, it was for his own good.

I levitated him quite easily (gods, charms are so much better than transfiguration) and raced to the hallway. I actually managed to shave a few seconds off that estimated 45 since I didn't slow down at the doors and instead sprinted right through them and skidded to a halt right in front of a very startled looking Madam Jeffries.

"Help!" I cried, gesturing wildly toward Potter's unconscious floating figure. Great, I sounded desperate; there is no way she's going to buy the story about mild concern now.

Madam Jeffries hurriedly levitated Potter on to the nearest bed and set about examining his wound and cleaning up some of the blood. Having nothing better to do I shuffled along behind and collapsed in the chair next to Potter's bed. I inspected my shoes as Madam Jeffries tried to stop the blood flowing out of Potter's leg.

I have blood on my shoes. James Potter's blood. At least they aren't my new shoes or my absolutely, all-time favorite ones. I did like them, though.

I looked up toward the empty hospital beds at the other end of the ward until Madam Jeffries scurried off to find some blood replenishing potion. I turned to James and looked at his face. He doesn't look half bad when he's unconscious and his leg looks ten times better now. There's an ugly red bite mark on it, but there isn't anymore blood.

I reached out and took off his glasses, laying them on the table by his bed. I don't want him to break them if he rolls over or something.

I meant to put my hand back in my lap; I really did! So I can assure you that I have no clue what so ever as to how it ended up brushing his hair off of his forehead. But his hair was so soft and it just felt nice as it passed through my fingers.

His eyes flickered open and I tried to jerk my hand back, but it wouldn't move! It was like it was trapped ... like his wonderful black hair had turned into a Devil's Snare and was grasping my fingers into death and beyond. Now death and beyond wouldn't be too bad with Potter, but I'd rather not be attached to his head seeing as he's nearly a foot taller than me and the circulation in my arm would be gone in no time.

I watched as his eyes focused on me and I immediately felt guilty. I'd just kicked him in the leg, not only that, but I'd caused him so much pain that he'd passed out (which may or may not have been a good thing if you were judging by being dead or being in intense severe pain).

But why hadn't I just cursed him or something? Now he's going to associate me with pain and he'll never come near me again. Wait ... isn't that supposed to be a good thing?

No ... no ... it's most certainly not because ... ummm ... because I said so. How lame is that; I can't even come up with a decent justification in my head. Stupid brain, stupid justifications, always failing me. But why hadn't I just cursed him? That would have been so sensible, so logical, so typically me.

My eyes locked with James' and then I remembered why I'd kicked him. He'd been kissing my neck, my NECK, which is not allowed. I mean come on; we haven't even french kissed yet ... not that we ever will, but that definitely comes first and that neck thing comes ... never. Besides, what if he'd left a hickey?

Oh great gods, I don't have one do I? Is there a mirror in here? There's got to be a mirror. Why didn't I put one in my pocket this morning?

I felt my neck; it seemed ok, besides he really didn't have time to leave one. I kicked him first.

Oh drat, I'm feeling guilty again.

I leaned over his bed so he could see me clearly even though he didn't have his glasses on, so that I could apologize and then it happened ... the invisible magnet in his lips switched on.

I swear that's what it is. I just meant to tell him how sorry I was about his leg and the next thing I knew my lips are on his. I felt even guiltier as James stiffened up, clearly expecting me to inflict severe pain on him again. Darn stupid magnets.

I gave my head a violent jerk backwards and my whole body flew with it landing heavily in the chair next to his bed. Cleverly enough, the chair decided it would be funny to tip onto it's back two legs and after a good bit of wobbling on its part and arm waving on my part, dump me over backwards, so I went sprawling on the floor.

"Lily?" James cried, sounding worried. The idiot. I'd just made him pass out and seemed to be having problems stopping kissing him and he was worried about me. Honestly, I'd be more worried about those magnets. Feeling sorry for myself and the sorry state of my life, I just curled into a ball and moaned.

"Lily?" he called again.

"Go away," I mumbled. Then I felt a hand on my arm. I raised my head up and saw James kneeling over me looking quite worried.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," I said rather stupidly.

"Are you alright?" he asked, ignoring my question. I inched myself up into a sitting position.

"Yeah." I looked at him and felt the insane urge to start babbling. What is up with my urges today? They need to check into an insane asylum because they've been giving me some pretty insane advice lately. Sadly enough, I still listen to them.

"Do you know how sorry I am about kicking you? Because I really am. I mean I was just planning on cursing you or something, but I've got this reflex and once the neck thing started, well you had it coming. Of course, if I had been thinking I could have kicked your other leg, but I was kind of preoccupied because I thought you were going to die from blood loss. That was the whole problem you know. I had to get you to the hospital wing, but I don't have the power to levitate animate things. Gods, you don't even know how lucky you are, do you? You have all that power and you just shove it into pranks. If you wanted to you could probably be the most powerful wizard in the world. But back to the problem of the blood loss, I couldn't just wait for you to pass out, could I? I hate to admit it Potter, but you are perhaps even more stubborn than I am and you would have held off passing out until you were dead. And if you died it would have all been my fault since I was the one who accidentally transfigured that stupid carnivorous sunflower. I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself, would I, James? I mean, you saved my life or my limbs at the very least. If you died I'd never get to see you again and I have to train a new Head Boy, and our Quidditch team would lose to the Slytherins, and Sirius would murder me, and you'd never kiss me again and ..."

I broke off as James pressed his lips to mine.

**ooo...ooo**

Thanks for reading! Please review if you have the time! Sorry for the long wait I'm in a summer program and the access to computers is slim to none … I'll try to get as much up as possible while I'm on break.  
**  
****Lorwyn Daystar** - I'm going to miss you so much! What am I going to do without you? I'm going to die of ... of no nifer-ness! WAAAHH! Batman! Duh Nuh Nuh Nuh Nuh Batman!

**TajM **- I'm glad you liked the titles. I'm afraid I have a bit of a fetish with titles, so I like to get as many of them in as possible. 

**october tuscany** - The whooshes do sound a bit like cramps; don't they? 

cath-a2ff - Oh no! Don't be scared of flowers! I love flowers. 

**madame-knight** - I'm glad you liked the comedy ... but it's never good to assume anything.

**eluding-you** - Yeah, I did get the idea for the style of chapter titles I use from Patricia Wrede.

**misconceptions** - Thank you!

**Withered Quill** – I hope the dialogue lives up to your expectations!

**Prongs(f)** – Don't die! I need all of the reviewers I can get. (but if you do die would you mind popping down and reviewing anyway, I'm sure no one would mind too much).

Thanks and Hugs for - **HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, siriusforeva, GoddessoftheMaaN, drumer girl, The Big Dance, passionflower24, Artemis Teranika Ryanncar, sumrandumperson, suckerforlove, **and** Prongsie-Jamsie.**


	4. In Which Lily Eats Fritters

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowlings'.

Chapter 4: In Which Lily Eats Fritters

Or

In Which Lily Loses her Concentration

Where we left our favorite heroine:

I broke off as James pressed his lips to mine.

**ooo…ooo**

He hesitantly reached a hand up and stroked my hair as I pulled him even closer. Honestly, he kissed me this time so I can claim I've gone temporarily insane.

See that? That flying shoe shaped object? Yep, that was my sanity leaving, and it may never come back. His lips were so soft and gentle as he pulled back a little to brush kisses on my forehead, my cheek, and the tip of my nose.

"James," I whispered, as he hesitated near my lips again. Oh great Merlin, I really am insane. Sure, I tolerated Potter when I woke up this morning, but I certainly didn't want to jump him and kiss him senseless. Alright, I admit I want to kiss him senseless, but jumping him would be a bit much. After all, if I play my cards right, maybe he'll jump me and I won't have to jump him at all.

NO! Stupid brain! If I play my cards right he won't jump me and I won't jump him and we'll both be miserable - happy (I meant happy).

I've been noticing the strangest things about James, though. I'd never even noticed before that he is absolutely adorable when he blushes, and his hair is so soft, it just makes you want to run your fingers through it all of the time. Heck, that's probably why James has that adorable – horrible - habit of running his hand through his hair. I used to think it was the sorting hat's insanity that put an arrogant, selfish pig like James Potter in Gryffindor, but he really is selfless and brave. He saved me from the sunflower without a second thought. He could have been horribly injured … oh, wait … he was. Well, he could have died. But the most startling and slightly disturbing thing that I have most officially found out about James Tristan Potter today is that he is most certainly and without a doubt a darn good kisser.

I obviously don't have the experience to say he's the best kisser, but I'm willing to bet he's up there with all those Greek Adonis'. I'm just saying that if a guy can make you feel like you're floating by just pressing his lips to yours, no tongue involved, he's obviously pretty darn good. Or you're just soul mates and the pure bliss of being next to each other is enough to start you with the floating feeling. And we all know that's not what I'm feeling.

"Mr. Potter, get yourself back into your bed this instant!" Madam Jeffries shrill voice rang out, interrupting our kisses. James pulled his lips from mine with apparent effort. I wonder if he's having the same problem with the magnetic lip thing as I am? Probably not, seeing as I'm undoubtedly imagining the whole thing and/or going completely insane. It's probably the insane thing, isn't it?

I helped James off of the floor and onto the bed. I attempted to take my former seat after righting the chair, but Madam Jeffries went off on me and with tremendous amounts of arm waving and many shrill screeches, she shoved me, none too gently, out of the Hospital Wing.

I stood outside of the now closed doors for a bit and I realized I didn't feel too well anymore. I guess all that excitement with the rickety desks and sunflowers made me forget to feel odd ... sickishly odd.

As I walked back to the Transfiguration room to get my books, the unsettled feeling in my stomach grew. I should have just stayed in the Hospital Wing. Now, of course, Madam Jeffries wouldn't let me in unless I was dying because she'll think I just want to make out with James, which probably wouldn't be too great for his health.

But I don't want to make out with James; I don't even want to kiss James. I just don't understand how I've ended up in this predicament ... but I'm pretty sure I can blame that stupid _whoosh_ from breakfast this morning. I hate _whooshes_. Then again, I could also blame those stupid desks in Transfiguration. I hate desks. Or maybe it's those gods forsaken magnets or invisible strings or whatever they are. I hate those … those … thingys!

I pushed open the door to the Transfiguration room and walked into one of McGonagall's first year classes. I guess I missed class change while I was in the Hospital Wing. I quietly closed the door behind me so I wouldn't disturb the class. Looking at the notes on the board, I smirked a bit. Now this was my level of transfiguration.

I looked at McGonagall and saw she seemed to be quite occupied trying to explain to a red-headed kid that he did not have the proper skills to transfigure his partner and, thus, should refrain from attempting to do so; I decided she wouldn't want me to bother her. Scanning the classroom, I spotted my bag next to her desk.

I pulled out my wand and with a very simple swish and flick, levitated the bag into the air. It rose silently and swiftly over the desks and I whispered, "Accio bag," summoning it to me. The bag was about half-way across the room and, coincidently enough, right above the head of a young boy I recognized as a Slytherin, when an ear piercing yowl of pain rang through the entire castle, startling me.

Let me tell you, I'm not the sort to be distracted from my charms by a loud noise; it's just that at that exact moment my stomach did a remarkable 360 and a few back flips. So the fact I felt like I was on an upside down roller coaster, and the fact that I was pretty sure that scream had come from James, distracted me and I rather forgot about my charms. My bag fell on top of the hapless Slytherin 1st year.

"Sorry," I cried, truly feeling horrible about hitting that poor innocent kid. I was trying to help the little guy up when he jerked his hand from mine and sneered down his nose at me. I was actually kind of impressed that he managed it seeing as he was even shorter than me.

"I don't need help from a mudblood," he spat, his voice filled with disdain. "You'll pay for your stupidity."

Ok, this kid isn't looking quite so cute anymore. I quickly gathered my bag and supplies that had fallen out. I turned to go and I caught a glance of pure disgust and hate directed at me by that little boy. He could only be what? 11 ... 12 ... how could someone so young have so much hate? As I hurried into the hallway, I felt an inexplicable pull around my heart and I felt like crying.

I've never cried when people call me names (except that one time, but that doesn't really count because I'd just found out what mudblood meant). I guess it's just the fact that it was a little kid. I mean, kids are supposed to be the innocents in our society, but they're already being corrupted into hate. I sniffed and decided to go collect myself in my dorm.

Once in the room, I flopped down on my bed, enjoying the silence of the empty dormitories. I snuggled around on my bed a bit, working myself under the covers. Using a carefully perfected maneuver, I buried myself into a cocoon of blankets that enveloped me with warmth, so not a bit of cold air could get in. With a sigh, I fell asleep.

I woke up with a start. I stayed in my cocoon, but I was wide awake ... as if I'd never even been asleep. Normally, I'm a slow waker who needs to hit the snooze button on the alarm clock once or twice just to adjust to the fact that I must indeed wake up, so being wide awake was a new sensation.

But what I really can't believe is that I just took a nap! I haven't taken a nap since I was 7. I sat up on my elbows and shook my head, peering around the dorm room, which was still empty. I spotted Ally's charms book on her bed. She must have dropped it off, so it was either lunch or afternoon classes. My hunch is afternoon classes because the odd sensation in my stomach has been replaced with ravenous hunger.

Great, just great, now I've pretty much missed all of my classes today. I don't see much point in going to class late and getting a detention. Besides, Care of Magical Creatures is pretty boring right now; all we're doing is studying theory about unicorns so we can "prepare" to see a real one. We've been "preparing" for creatures all year and we've only gotten to care for one: flobber worms. I guess Professor Kettleburn is worried about something going wrong, with Potter and Black in his class he probably has a reason to worry, but if you occupy them then they aren't nearly as bad. I really should talk to them about cutting Kettleburn some slack since this is his first year teaching and he needs to build his confidence.

Stumbling out of bed, I made my way to the kitchens, not really caring that I looked like I'd just rolled out of bed since ... well, I had.

The first thing that caught my attention when I entered the kitchen was not the lovely smells, which were very nice if I do say so myself and rather made me want an apple fritter, but the fact that none other than James Tristan Potter was also in the kitchen munching on what looks suspiciously like an apple fritter.

That wasn't fair! I wanted one, too. I hurried over to him.

"Do they have any more?" I asked eagerly. He looked at me in surprise before looking down at his fritter, and then he extended it toward me. I was going to refuse, I really was; I mean, he'd already taken a bite out of it and everything, but I was so darn hungry. I literally had never felt this hungry in my entire life. So I snatched the fritter from his hand and polished it off, trying to appear as though I wouldn't enjoy eating a whole tractor trailer full of fritters. I don't know if I succeeded.

James smiled at me, amused. "Hungry?"

"Starving." He laughed and I joined in, I couldn't help it. His laugh is so contagious.

"New feeling?"

"Yeah, I've never had the made urge to eat anything slightly edible before." Oops, I didn't mean to admit that. I blushed as he laughed again.

"No worries, Ms. Evans, I've got lots of experience in that department, so let's see what we can find you."

With James' help I managed to find and eat 6 more fritters, 2 ham sandwiches (I don't even like ham!), a dozen or so stalks of celery (I talked him into that, he was all for avoiding healthy food), a bag of rice cakes (dang, those things are addictive, especially the caramel flavored ones), and 5 large chocolate chip cookies.

"I've never eaten that much in my life," I told him, as we walked back toward the common room.

He put an arm around my shoulders and said, "Well, anytime you feel like going on another food binge, just let me know." We both laughed and I found myself moving closer to him. Why, I can't say, but I'm just going to write it off as I was feeling a bit chilly and he seemed rather warm.

Fine, I'll tell you the truth, but you can't tell anyone. And I mean anyone!

I just realized as we chatted over our late lunch that James Potter is an ok guy. I've never bothered to talk with him before, really talk with him. Now that I find myself kissing him every time I turn around, I kind of felt like it would be a nice gesture, talking to him. I was a bit surprised at how easy it was. I didn't have any problem chatting about my Muggle family and he seemed completely at ease discussing his pureblood family. It was like we understood each other.

No, it wasn't anything like a deep underlying connection, it was more like we'd spent so much time together fighting that we knew each other well enough to be able to communicate. Oh, another tid bit of information I gleaned from lunch; it was in fact James who was screaming when I dropped my bag. Apparently Madam Jeffries had upset a bottle of peroxide over his leg and ... well, we all know how much that stings even on small scrapes.

But I guess it's because James is an ok guy that I didn't protest when he slid his arm down to rest around my waist. Or maybe I'm just cold. I bet that's it; the weather is just so chilly ... kind of.

"Do you eat like that all of the time?" I asked, since James had matched my appetite and even managed a few more rice cakes than me.

"Sure," he said, smiling down at me. I felt my knees go all mushy. What is wrong with me today? Â I think I really do need to go to the hospital wing.

"I'm a growing boy, I need my energy."

I nudged him playfully, "But what happens when you stop growing?" He was already over 6 feet tall, how much more did he want?

"Then I shall grow fat and ugly," he said in a tragic voice.

Then he nudged me back. "But you'll still think I'm devastatingly handsome, right?"

"Dream on, Potter," I said, rolling my eyes, although, I'm sure he's right. Heck, even his voice is devastatingly handsome and you can't even see that.

"How about devastatingly sexy?" he suggested.

"You think you'll still be sexy when you're fat and ugly?" I asked skeptically.

"Oh, ho! Did you just admit you find me sexy?"

"No!" I cried. I hadn't, had I? Sure, he was sexy. He was very sexy, but I hadn't said that, had I? Oh no, I had kind of implied it! I felt a blush creep up the back of my neck. We all agree he's sexy, but you can't admit things like that! Especially if it's me doing the admitting, and I'm not the sort of person who admits to anything!

"I think you did," James said, stopping our walk, "Admit it."

"I really didn't."

"Yes, you did," he said. Is it just me or was he getting closer? I think he is getting closer. Or maybe I'm the one who's getting closer. Darn these stupid magnet/string things make it hard to tell.

Wow. He really smells like apple fritters. Those things were really good. I'd kind of like another one now that I...

I'm telling you, there are invisible stings or magnets or Velcro or something attached to my head because it just moved about three inches without me telling it to.

Not that I'm objecting, but now James will really think I think he's sexy, which he is, but I mean look at the size of his ego. If you feed that thing anymore, he won't be able to fit it through door ways. My line of thought was cut off as James ran his tongue over my lips.

Holy Shitake Mushrooms, he wants me to open my mouth. Calm thoughts ... calm thoughts. Oh Merlin, the calm thoughts aren't working. I know! I'll make a pros and cons list. Good idea.

**Pro**

1. James is really sexy (I swear I didn't mean to put that first)

2. His hair is very nice (but messy)

3. He is very nice and sensitive (sometimes)

4. I'll be able to say I've French kissed James Potter (although, I don't know who I'd say it to)

5. He saved me from a giant carnivorous sunflower

Alright ... that's enough pros (plus I can't think of anymore).

**Con**

1. He has a big ego (well, that's a 'no duh' kind of con)

2. He'll think I'm easy (and I am NOT easy)

3. He'll know I think he's sexy (and that's not what we want)

Oh, screw that. I want to know if he tastes like apple fritters...

**ooo…ooo**

Thanks for reviewing! If you happen on a spot of free time a review would be appreciated.

**Lorwyn Daystar** – Yeah … I know it sucks … you don't have to tell me. Great now I'm depressed … hehe … j/k … did I have you fooled? Seriously … you better write a nicer review or I won't speak with you anymore (not that I've spoken with you lately, but I won't write to you)! Nah … j/k … I just like to be mean.

**Suckerforlove** – I do believe this chapter should have answered your questions … I suppose I didn't really address the kneeling … he wasn't hurt too bad … it's just not something to do when you've got a leg injury.

**tHe-aRisTocRatiC-aSSaSSiN** – I do feel special … Thanks!

**Procrastinator-starting2moro** – Agreed … what a bloody mess.

**GoddesoftheMaan **– Wicked? You really think so? I've always wanted to write wicked awesome stuff.

**October Tuscany** – Well actually the Batman thing was slightly more superficial. Daystar and I were going to go see it in theaters, but we didn't make it. That's awesome about your volley ball team though.

**RemmyishMine** – James is a trooper indeed. Hehe. You and Lily should have a table breaking contest.

Deceptive shadows – Wow, that's high praise. I hope I live up to it.

**Siriusly Sirius Lily Black** – Thank you very very … insert a few hundred very's … much! Yeah … the neck thing is more that Lily isn't secure about James in general … so she's sort of letting it out be just being insecure about her neck … it's also sort of vampirish if you ask me … and since I'm the author Lily shares my idea.

Withered Quill – I'm glad you laughed … it burns calories you know. That's what I tell my mother anyway.

**Prongsie-Jamesie** – I have only one thing to say … insane.

**Frilge** – I rather like the talking in the head thing too … at first it wasn't working, but it's definitely picking up.

**TajM** – I've never heard of "Of Human Bondage". It sounds very psychology oriented. Poor James indeed.

Thanks and Hugs! **Hpgirl7777, Jen-bob-ohio, cuddlyjill, Seren Lunar Echo, siriusforeva, ST3, MaD-4-u, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, **and **drumer girl.**


	5. In Which Lily Goes to Divination

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 5: In Which Lily Goes to Divination

Or

In Which Lily Discovers the Hazards of Long Hair

Where we left our beloved heroine:

Oh, screw that. I want to know if he tastes like apple fritters ...

**ooo...ooo**

It's official ... he tasted like apple fritters. Yum …

I still can't get him out of my head and it's driving me insane. Well, even more insane than I already am. Before you know it, I'll be in the crazy ward at St. Mungo's.

After I finished my homework, rather distractedly, I went to bed. I don't remember falling asleep, but I must have since the next thing I remember is waking up.

From the instant I woke up, my day hasn't been normal. First of all, I woke up at least an hour after I usually wake up. Seeing my clock (and it's auspiciously not 7:00 time) I launched myself frantically out of bed and got tangled in my pjs, which had twisted around my legs as I slept. I plied myself off of the floor and thought evil thoughts about my roommates. Why in the world hadn't they woken me up? They probably had a right good laugh over me sleeping in.

I hurried into the bathroom and hopped into the shower. I was about to turn on the water when I realized I still had my clothes on. I thunked my head on the shower wall.

Ouch. That rather hurt. Mental note to self: shower walls aren't as soft as they look.

I got back out of the shower and actually got undressed before I got back in. I took a quicker shower than usual, although, I had to wash my hair twice.

It was weird. I swear I put enough shampoo in my hand, but I didn't. Maybe it was enough to wash a boy's hair, but I've got tons more than them. It's so annoying (having to wash my hair twice and boys).

So I threw on my uniform, slung my tie around my neck, grabbed my shoes, and ran down the stairs. I was about half-way to the common room when I realized I forgot my bag, so I ran back up the stairs. On the way back down the stairs, I was juggling my bag, attempting to put on my shoes, and running as fast as my rather twisted skirt would allow.

That probably wasn't one of my brightest ideas; was it? Ah well, it could have been worse, I could have broken my arm or my leg or my head, but I didn't. Instead I ran smack into Potter and we with a spectacular bounce (that felt a lot like flying) we landed in a pile at the bottom of the steps.

"Hey," I said, pushing myself onto my elbows and smiling a bit. I'm really lucky; aren't I? Do you know any other girls who have their own personal human cushion (who's rather cute and tastes like apple fritters)? Mind you, this would be much more enjoyable if he wasn't such a git.

"Going to breakfast?" James asked, returning my smile.

"Yeah."

"Need help finding the Great Hall?" Of course I didn't. Geez ... just because I'm on top of him doesn't mean I'm helpless. Sorry, chauvinistic, male pig.

"Sure." Wait ... who said that? Was that me? I am not helpless!

While I was pondering the foreign entity that had taken over my mouth, James helped me up and since he had contrived to wrap a hand around my waist, I was forced to walk down to the Great Hall with him. I hesitated as James started toward his friends. He paused and looked back at me. Maybe we'd taken a break from reality for a bit, but this was the real world. And in the real world, we didn't get along. I shoved his arm off of my waist and turned the other direction.

I walked away, over to where Ally was sitting and took a seat beside her. I spent most of breakfast ignoring James' stare which I could feel on the back of my head.

As I walked to my first class of the day, I deliberately dragged my steps at a snail's pace.

I hate Ancient Runes. Why am I in this class? Oh yeah, because I'm pretty darn good at it. What a stupid reason! I mean, just because I'm good at yelling at people doesn't mean I'm in a class for it. Actually, all that practice yelling at James during Head patrols really could be considered another class.

After arriving at class I discovered that unfortunately, or fortunately really, Professor Norwin is sick today or, for whatever reason, just isn't here.

My guess is she probably forgot she had a class and hopped a broom to the coast for some shrimp. I swear, on my lime green, fluffy slippers, that she's done that before.

McGonagall just walked in.

Apparently she wasn't to break us up into groups of three to send to another class because there isn't a professor available to watch us.

Oh gods … I'm having such a bad day. Somehow, don't ask me how (but I'm pretty sure it has to do with the fact the world is after me) I ended up in a group with Severus Snape and Arnaud Armstice (what a name; if I were him, I'd kill my parents, absolutely murder them).

McGonagall walked over to us and she gave me a small smile. "You three will be going to Divination with Professor Glieson." Ugh … Divination.

As we walked, I trailed behind, trying to keep Snape and Armstice from noticing me and consequently deciding to mess with me. Those two are the worst when it comes to treatment of muggle born's. The name itself doesn't really bother me … I don't hold much stock in blood purity, but I'd rather not have a split lip or house elf ears for the rest of the day.

I hesitated in front of the ladder up to the Divination classroom. I really don't want to go. I don't particularly like ladders anyway. After pulling a very ugly face, I climbed up.

I sneezed convulsively three times in a row as the offending smell of incense reached my nose. My eyes were watering from the horrible smell of too many offending types of incense mixed together, so I swiped at them with my robe sleeve. After removing a good amount of the water I was able to get a look of the classroom. Basically it consisted of pairs of students sitting on cushions around low circular tables with crystal balls sitting on them.

I was wondering if sitting without a chair would hurt your back when a small man jumped in front of me.

"Ahh .. another one of the students in need of watching," he said, attempting to use mystical tones. Ahh … Professor Glieson. The fellow hardly ever emerges from his tower.

"Yeah ..." I said, looking at him like he was insane because I have the slight suspicion he really is insane.

"Join that group," he said with a wave of his hand. I turned and saw he'd directed me right into Potter and Black's group.

NO! I'm going to die! Why me? Heck, I'd rather partner with Snape. Why are those two even in Divination?

"Now that the interruption I predicted at the beginning of class is complete, please continue reading your crystal balls," the professor stated.

"He predicted the interruption?" I said skeptically as I sat down at the small table. My bet was that McGonagall had told him to expect students. Divination is such a phony branch of wizardry (which is why I never took it).

Black laughed, "You bet; he's just so in tune with his inner eye."

"We heard McGonagall come in and tell him to expect students," James said, leaning towards me.

Is it just me, or are these tables really meant for two people? I think they are because with three people, I'm feeling a little too close to Potter for comfort. And the leaning isn't really helping much.

"Right," I said, looking with a great deal of focus at Black, so I wouldn't have to look at Potter. The last thing I needed right now was for the magnets to kick in.

"Want me to go first?" Black asked excitedly, pulling the crystal ball toward him.

"Sure," James said with a shrug that made me desperately want to run my hands over his shoulders.

Have I mentioned that he has nice, really nice, shoulders? I could do it. I could run my hands over them. I could just pretend his robe had a wrinkle in it.

I reached out and ran my hand over his shoulder. It was very nice. It was even nicer than it looked. He certainly had the right shoulders, not to hulking big and not to wimpy, just perfect.

"Ahem." I looked up at James and realized I been running my hand over his shoulder ... in public.

Shoot!

"There was a wrinkle," I said, blushing.

I looked away from James, who was regarding me with a questioning look, and turned toward Sirius, who was watching our exchange with raised eye brows over the crystal ball.

He looked back down and said, "Wow, I think I actually see something."

"Really?" James asked, putting on a valiant effort of appearing interested, but failing spectacularly all the same.

"You aren't going to believe this mate, but apparently there's going to be some broken desks and a seriously angry red-head in your future." I turned even redder if that was possible.

"Oh, shut up, Black," I muttered. Then I watched in surprise as he fell out of his seat. I leaned over the desk and looked at him. He was lying on the floor holding his shin. I looked at James. He smirked.

See look, there's another good thing about James Potter … he knows how to shut his best friend up. Especially when said best friend has copious amounts of blackmail material on you (even more than the rest of your Transfiguration class, who also have substantial amounts).

"Why don't we let our tomato colored little red head give it a try?" Sirius asked, getting back into his chair.

"I'm not in Divination," I said, ignoring his rude comment on the color of my face. Besides, I sincerely doubt I'm the color of a tomato; I'd guess I'm more a Gryffindor color red.

"So?" He said, raising an eyebrow.

I thought about it and honestly couldn't come up with a reason I couldn't try to look in the darn crystal ball.

"Oh alright," I said, snatching the thing up and plopping it down in front of me.

"So how do I work this thing?"

"Well, in all likelihood, you probably won't be able to work it," Black said, being

spectacularly unhelpful, "Merlin knows I've never even seen anything."

I rolled my eyes and peered at it. "Am I supposed to swirl my hands around it or something like they do in the movies?"

Black didn't respond. I looked up and saw he wasn't even in his seat anymore. It's amazing how fast and silent that man is. I'm only glad he just pranks people. If he were an assassin, we'd all be dead.

I looked around and saw he was kneeling by Ally's table and appeared to be tying her shoe for her. I cocked my head to the side then looked to James. He shrugged.

"You can wave your hands if you like," he said, "but generally it's more helpful to just lay them on the ball." I tentatively touched my fingertips to the crystal and it didn't change a whit. I think one could grow to loathe this white mist.

"No, no," James said, reaching out and placing his hands over mine, pushing them so my entire palm was touching the crystal. It was then, with my hands firmly pressed to the ball by James, that I saw something.

It was deep within the crystal and I leaned closer trying to figure out what it was. I couldn't make it out it was too far away. I looked up questioningly at James, but saw his entire body was ridged, his eyes locked on the crystal.

_Great. _(FYI, that was completely sarcastic. Why does he have to go and have visions while my hands are on the crystal ball? Couldn't he have waited just one bloody second until it was his turn?)

I guess I should have asked if James was the teacher's pet in this class before getting him to help me. I'm guessing he is (teacher's pet, that is) because I'm pretty darn sure no one else in here is seeing squat in their crystals. Honestly, does Potter have to be good at everything?

No, wait. Don't answer that. It would probably depress me.

I looked back at the crystal ball and felt my breathing suddenly slow.

I could see it.

I was somewhere outdoors; there were lights everywhere, and flowers. There was magic too. It was so strong I could feel it from where I was seated in a classroom far away. The view changed and I saw swirls of color. I realized after a minute that they were people, dancing. I couldn't make out who they were until the view shifted again, moving closer to the couple at the center of the dance floor.

This was important, I could feel it. I leaned forward, eager to see who this couple was.

I caught a glimpse and in my mind I said, "I know them." But for the life of me I couldn't place their faces. Maybe if I'd gotten more than a glimpse, but I hadn't.

As soon as I'd seen them the entire ball went dark and a pair of devilish red eyes stared at me. I'd seen these eyes before in my dreams.

I started to scream. I don't know why but these eyes are the scariest thing in the world. If I ever have to face a boggart this is what it would become. I can't even explain my terror … it's just like I intuitively know that these eyes are evil … like I was born knowing.

I could feel my body struggling, but my mind felt it was miles away. I could hear the scream, but it was faint and distant. One thought was running through my head, "_Get it away from me!" _So I shoved, shoved the eyes with all of my might.

I snapped back to reality when the crystal ball hit the floor with a resounding crack and split right in half.

I took a deep shuddering breath, stopping my scream and grasped for something to hold on to. My hand fell on to James and I held on for dear life.

Oh gods, I had to get out of here. That was too weird, too scary.

I tried to stand up, but my feet were tangled in my bag and I fell on to the table top.

James got up and helped me to my feet, grasping both of my hands in one of his.

Darn, his hands are really huge. And warm. And comforting. I wonder if he's ever considered renting them out when people are in need of reassurance.

As soon as I realized what I was thinking, I panicked.

I did not want to be thinking about James Potter's hands, not now, not ever. That was just a topic I'd rather not deal with. So I stepped backwards, jerking my hands with me.

I think that for my future health and happiness I should never step backwards ever again without looking behind me.

Stupid table. It hit me right in the backs of my knees and I went tumbling backwards, pulling Potter with me. We crashed into the table and it split right in two down the center, leaving us wedged in the middle.

I think I kind of prefer the Transfiguration tables. Even though you get splinters in your butt when you break those, at least, you aren't trapped.

"Get off me, Potter!" I cried, shoving futilely at his chest. Then I looked into his eyes and the stupid magnets switched on.

"Geroffmmmpooer," was how my next demand came out, mainly because it was muffled by his lips.

Then I just gave up. I gave up on protesting. I gave up on caring. I gave up on thinking. I just let Potter fix everything. Sometimes men are useful ... who would have thought? And then Professor Glieson kicked me out of his class.

Ok, fine, it wasn't exactly Potter's fault he kicked me out since Potter did fix everything up and managed to explain the whole kissing thing.

Why, oh why, did Black have to go pick up the crystal ball (or more accurately, pieces of the said crystal ball)?

"Wow! This is awesome. Do you think these babies will still work?" he asked, looking excited.

I stared at him for a second then shrugged. How in the world was I supposed to know? I'm not even in Divination.

"Is that ... my crystal ball!" Glieson questioned in an incredulous voice.

"Pieces of your crystal ball, I believe is the term you're looking for," Black said cheerily. Then he held them up over his chest like a pair of breasts. "Hey, hey, nice, huh?"

I just stared, but the rest of the class broke out in laughter.

Glieson gave a thoroughly girly shriek before collapsing onto his chair.

"Out," he said, pointing at me. "Out now!"

"But ..." I started, but he sprang from his chair grabbed my arm and attempted to drag me off. Too bad he's barely as tall as I am and I am muscle woman. I cannot be moved by force! MUWAHAHA! (oh yeah, and I've got a hold on Potter, but that's only a small factor)

"Get out! Get out of my class now!" He cried, letting go of my arm and stamping his foot. He looks just like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum.

"Fine!" I said, filled with righteous attitude.

If only I hadn't knelt down right then in fury to pick up my bag.

If only I hadn't stood up in even greater fury.

If only Potter hadn't been so close to me (much closer than I'd thought).

If only I had shorter hair.

If only he hadn't been wearing a belt.

If only I'd murdered him when I had the chance.

But no ... I hadn't, and my hair got stuck on his belt.

Yeah … so now not only is my head in intense pain, but Glieson some how (in spite of his slight vertical challenge) threw me down the lower. I hate ladders!

I still can't believe Glieson kicked me out. For crying out loud, it was only a stupid crystal ball (admittedly it was a supposedly unbreakable crystal ball, but still!). And really that, table was more like a board on a pair of cinder blocks. I'd done it a favor by putting it out of its misery. And while kissing someone isn't exactly appropriate behavior for the middle of a class, I was kissing his favorite student ... that should negate the inappropriateness of the whole thing. And anyone with half a wit could tell the belt thing was a complete accident.

I shoved the belt (which was still stuck in my hair) out of my face. My scalp hurts.

I hope Potter's pants don't fall down without his belt. I'd feel kind of bad then.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'd laugh my head off ... and make sure to get a good look.

Ahh! That was an evil thought. I take it back.

I worked on trying to maneuver my hair over the belt buckle. I swear, if I have to cut off my hair to get this out I will murder Potter. I will kill him dead.

Yes! I got it out! I am the master.

I threw that stupid piece of leather as far as I could down the hall. Strangely enough that act of violence made me feel much better.

"Stupid Divination, stupid crystal balls, stupid Head Boys, stupid tables, stupid belts ..." I muttered, busily listing all of the stupid things I could think of as I stomped down the hall.

I wasn't going anywhere in particular since I didn't quite know what one was supposed to do after getting thrown out of class. Mainly due to the fact I've never been thrown out of class before.

"Stupid Glieson!" I exclaimed, and then I ran smack into someone. I bounced back from the impact a bit, staggering.

"Sorry, Potter," I said, not even bothering to wonder what he was doing out of class. After all, we all know by now that it doesn't matter where he's supposed to be ... he always ends up right where I'll run into him.

"So not only have you insulted my brother by getting your filth on him, but now you dare to imply that I might be a podunk blood traitor?"

Alright, I'm guessing by now you've figured out that I didn't run into Potter. I have no clue who this guy is (much less who this brother person is). But I do definitely know he doesn't like James Potter.

**ooo…ooo**

Thank you for reviewing! If you're not being chased by a giant carnivorous sunflower (or are otherwise legitimately occupied) please review! It is always much appreciated.

**Lorwyn Daystar** – sorry I threatened you … I was joking (unless I wasn't in which case I would lock my doors if I were you). I miss you too. You're being a really fast beta reader today … so I was wondering if that was part of some satanic plot between you and the world in an attempt to make me feel like I'm not typing fast enough?

**Prongsie-Jamesie** – You're right … just look at Lily. Compared to her none of us have to feel insane. Awesome!

**Jane** – Yes, the not talking was fun, but we have to let them chat it up or Lily will never fall desperately in love with dear ol' Jamesie and that would be devastatingly sad.

**slippersRfuzzy **– I just had to say I love your name. It's really awesome. Thanks for reviewing.

**TajM **– Don't forget … make a pros and cons list!

**Siriusly Sirius Lily Black** – Vampires are cool, but seeing as James isn't one (and for the foreseeable future of my story will not be one) I'm just going to leave the neck thing to the more experienced. Besides, Lily absolutely must have one pet peeve about James and neck kissing sounds like a wonderfully fun one to me. Just think of the possibilities.

**Eluding-you** – Yeah, I was seriously craving apple fritter and rice cakes when I wrote that. We didn't have any in the house either. We don't have any now either. Rats … now that you mention it I'd rather like one.

**MrsDanielRadcliffe** – I'm glad you like the mixing charm and bigheadedness.

**Skyhoofhearted** – Nope, not stalking you. I'm glad you can relate to my story.

**Procrastinator-starting2moro** – Yeah, it's a great saying. I got it off of Spy Kids.

Thanks and hugs too **drummergirl, siriusforeva, GoddessoftheMaan, cuddlyjill, **and **graceypoo**.


	6. In Which Lily Escapes Death

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 6: In Which Lily Escapes Death

or

In Which Lily Kisses Potter's Shoe

Where we left everyone's favorite heroine:

Alright, I'm guessing by now you've figured out that I didn't run into Potter. I have no clue who this guy is (much less who this brother person is). But I do definitely know he doesn't like James Potter.

**ooo...ooo**

In case I get kidnapped or something equally terrible, you should tell the aurors to look for a rather hulking guy. Seriously, he's about a foot and half taller than me. He has brownish hair and brownish eyes, very ordinary. If he didn't look like he wouldn't mind squishing me, I honestly don't think I'd have noticed him at all.

"Sorry ... sir?" I tried. I winced, flinching back as his arm shot out. I could feel his fist grazing my cheek.

Holy mother of crickets!

Holy mother of french fries!

I'm going to die!

Where's my wand? Where'd I put my wand?

I fumbled around in my pocket, trying to find it, but the Mr. Hulk grabbed my wrist, yanking it away. He held on tight as I struggled to twist out of his grip.

Ok, it's really official now ... I'm going to diiiiieeee!

"No need to panic just yet, little mudblood; that was just a warning. I don't miss when I want to hit you."

I would like to make a statement.

I, Lily Marie Evans, do solemnly swear and place it on the most permanent of records, that if James Tristan Potter showed up right now and rescued me, I would kiss his shoes.

I swear it, no matter how filthy they are!

Mr. Hulk leered at me and I did a feeble wave with my free hand. The silence was deafening. "So ..." I said, trying to break the silence, "You don't like Potter, huh?"

Wow, Lily, that was probably not the best ice breaker.

"No, my sweet little mudblood, I don't like your boyfriend very much. In fact it would be fair to say I loathe him."

"He's not my boyfriend!" I cried in a scandalized tone. How dare he accuse me of going out with Potter! I can't believe him. While I may be a slight bit of a loser, I can at least do better than Potter.

Mr. Hulk, Leering Hulk, ignored me and plowed right on. "Perhaps it's even due to him that you've drawn my interest. What better a way is there to strike a Potter than to hurt his woman?"

"Now hold on just one second, mister," I said, attempting to look down my nose at him, which was made rather difficult since I _am _a foot and a half shorter than him. So I was doing my best in spite of my vertical challenges and I poked him in the chest with my index finger to emphasize my words.

"You may go right on ahead and spread crazy rumors about Potter and I dating, which we are not, but you MAY NOT call me _his _woman because I am NOT and will NEVER be any man's 'woman'. I am my own woman and nothing, not a boyfriend, not a ugly punk pureblood, not anything will ever change that. Are we quite clear on this matter?" I raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed.

He tilted his head back and just roared.

I've just realized something. It's actually kind of important too. I think I'm going to add it to my rules to live life by list.

**Rule Number 31**: Never fly off the handle and spout pro-feminist rhetoric at a man who could probably kill you if he felt like it.

Darn, that's a good rule. I wish I'd come up with that earlier.

Abruptly his laughter cut off. This guy is insane!

"So you don't even let Potter claim you? That must drive him crazy."

My mouth is literally hanging somewhere around my knees.

Oh boy, being claimed by people. Mr. Hulk here is a real sicko and _I'll_ even admit he's got Potter all wrong. While Potter obviously isn't the best person around, he isn't the sort who 'claims' women.

I can't believe it! I've finally found a man who makes James Potter seem like the most lovely and perfect man around. I need to write this down in my date book so I can remember it for all of eternity.

Sir 'I Lack Any Sense of Chivalry or Proper Behavior and am an Ugly Hulk' grabbed my other hand, forcing it above my head.

Darn! I was kind of hoping he wouldn't notice my renewed sneaking toward my wand.

"I think I'm going to have some fun with you mudblood. Then I'll leave you some place nice and public for dear Potter to find." He pushed me against the wall. His eyes were freakishly large and I felt like he was using them to freeze me, make me weak.

"D ... don't you think we could just talk and then I could go tell Potter a message for you?"

Mr. Sadistic Hulk laughed softly then forced his lips onto mine.

Oh gods!

I squirmed, trying to break away, but his hands tightened and I could feel my circulation being cut off. I maneuvered my foot and drove my heel down on his toe. He broke away from me, swearing and I used his distraction as a chance to break his grip on my wrist.

I'm not going to go down without a fight.

I won't be a girl who has to look back and say, "I wish I had fought, I wish I hadn't given in."

I'll never give in. Not ever. (Unless the conditions for surrender involve copious amounts of chocolate.)

I twisted around, letting my arm bend behind my back as I groped for my wand. I felt its smooth willow handle and I wrapped my fingers around it. My attacker used his hold on my other arm to whip me back around. As I spun I pulled my wand out. I used the borrowed momentum from my spin to make my disarming spell more forceful. When you're small like me you have to learn how to use an attacker's strength against them.

"Expelliarmus!" I yelled. To heck with non-verbal spells. They're over-rated anyway. Yelling has a certain appeal, especially when you desperately desire to blow the person you're cursing to Australia (and when he lands you hope he breaks both of his legs in several places).

I had to restrain a smirk of satisfaction as Mr. Hulk was flung from his feet and lost his grip on my arm (not as good as Australia, but we can't all get what we want).

I turned to run down the hallway, and get as far away from here as quickly as possible, when it hit me: turning my back probably hadn't been a good idea.

His spell hit me as soon as the thought ran through my mind. I felt my feet fling up over my head, and for a few fleeting seconds, I was completely upside down. Then I landed with a hard smack on the floor.

The only oddity in the situation was my face was actually not on the floor, but on what appeared to be a shoe. I was suddenly reminded of my silly promise about kissing Potter's shoes.

A small smile appeared on my face because I know whose shoes these are. Whose shoes they have to be because only one man will always be there when I need him most (and when I've made a ridiculously embarrassing promise involving his shoes) ... James Potter.

I quickly brushed my lips against the laces as James slowly knelt, keeping his eyes and wand trained on Mr. 'I Throw Spells at People's Backs and am a Filthy Hulk,' and helped me up. After I struggled back to my feet, James gently nudged me behind him, keeping his hand on my stomach. He hadn't looked at me yet and I got the feeling that he wanted his hand on me so he would know where I was.

I put my hand over his and he twisted his hand around so ours were entwined. For one blinding second I felt something I'd never truly felt before ... I felt whole. I shook my head and feeling disappeared. It must have been something I ate for breakfast.

Shifting my feet, I laid my other hand on his back. I figure that will give him a better feel for where I am in case ... well, in case he needs to know.

I looked at Mr. Hulk and I spotted my wand near his feet. He saw it too ... the idiot. He made a lazy flick with his wand, clearly intending to pick it up.

What's really freaking me out, though, is how nonchalant he looks ... like he could be yawning and it wouldn't look out of place. The only thing that gives him away are his eyes. They're hateful and calculating, staring straight at Potter.

Potter stared at my wand, which was halfway off the ground, and without even having to wave his wand, it fell back to the floor. (How come he's so good at EVERYTHING? Is there anything he's not good at? No wait ... don't answer that; I don't want to know.)

"Don't interfere with my spells, Potter," Mr. 'My Spell Just Got Stomped On and I'm a Stupid Hulk' snarled.

"I didn't do anything of the sort, Bryson. I can't help it if you are incapable of doing a simple summoning spell," Potter said archly, sounding every bit a well born pureblood.

Bryson? Hmm ... he looks more like a Hulk to me. Mr. Hulk _is _more fitting, maybe I'll just keep calling him that. After all, I can't seem to remember his real name anymore ... rats.

Mr. Smirking Hulk snarled through his clearly practiced in front of the mirror smirk, "You'd better keep a tighter leash on your woman Potter or else you'll find yourself sadly lacking anything to leash."

I felt Potter tense and I could practically feel the tension moving down my arm and through my entire body. Had Mr. Kind of Freaky Hulk just threatened to kill me? Oh god, oh god, I'm going to die! No wait, Potter will save me! Thank Merlin, I abso - bloody - lutely love Potter! Wait, wait ... not in that way! I mean in the 'He'll Take a Bullet/Death Curse for Me' kind of way. Jeez ... me in love with Potter, that's a laugh.

"If you know what's good for you and your family, you will watch your step around Ms. Evans," Potter said, his voice laced with barely controlled anger.

I hate this. I hate these stupid pureblood power wars. I mean, come on. How in the world can anyone be expected to understand what just happened? The only reason I get it is because Ally sat me down and explained it all, so I wouldn't accidentally get myself caught in the middle of a pureblood feud and end up dead (which is a highly undesirable state). I mean, who really cares that since Potter has just stated that I am under his protection, I am also under the protection of his entire family? So what if something were to happen to me, his entire family would technically step in on my side (which is just ridiculous since they've never met me)? And of course, now we have to sit around and wait to see if Mr. Hulk feels if his family has enough influence to risk offending Potter's family.

Oh boy, I'm glad I don't have to live like that. Back in the muggle world of suburbia, I live a nice pleasant life away from prominent bloodlines and their power plays.

Mr. Hulk's face looked like it was stuck somewhere between anger and frustration, giving him a sort of twisted look. It was completely unflattering. Serves him right.

Potter tightened his grip on my hand and then let go. I guess he's won this little match. No more danger!

I'm not going to die! I'm not going to die! Beyond awesome!

"Accio wand," Potter said, and my wand flew into is now free hand.

With a mock bow to Mr. 'I Just Got _Beat_ (Hulk),' Potter turned and guided me down the hall.

As soon as we'd turned the corner, Potter grabbed my hand and started flat out running, pulling me with him. About halfway down this new corridor, he jerked me straight into a wall. At least, I'd always assumed it was a wall, but apparently not.

I felt a quick shower of coolness on my skin and I was in a dark musty corridor that reminded me of those long out of use areas of the dungeons. Potter pressed me against the wall of the corridor and looked back the way we'd come. I followed his gaze and was surprised that I could see right through the fake wall. I watched in surprise as Mr. Hulk paced by looking like an enraged tiger.

He paused for a second and I got a good look at him ... and his bright blue hair and rather grave-yardesque teeth. I giggled and Potter clapped a hand over my mouth. Mr. Blue Haired Hulk started and looked suspiciously around the hallway.

"You think you're so clever, Potter, but one day soon you're family will fall and you'll find there's nothing left for you." Mr. Hulk stalked off down the hall and I watched him go, feeling at a slight loss for no apparent reason.

I waited a bit for Potter to remove his hand from over my mouth, but he didn't. I looked at him; he was still gazing out into the hallway, lost in thought. I hope he didn't take what Mr. Stupid, I Know Nothing, Hulk said seriously.

"James," I mumbled against his hand and he looked at me startled.

"Oh, sorry," he said, moving his hand. I immediately felt cold and wished he'd put his hand back on my cheek.

He really ought to take that idea of renting out his hands seriously.

He's really close. I can feel his breath on my face. I wonder if the invisible strings are going to kick in?

I waited for a second ... they didn't. Darn! ... I mean ... Yay.

"Thanks for saving me, James," I said, looking him in the eyes so he would know I meant it.

"Uh ... look, Lily, Bryson and I don't get along very well. Our families go way back and it seems he's interested in pulling you into our spat." James sighed heavily and looked over my head like he was searching for something.

I wonder what he's thinking about. He looks so serious, like he's contemplating things I could never understand. Things I wouldn't even want to understand.

Desperate to break the silence I said, "Actually, I think it might kind of be my fault. I accidentally dropped my bag on this little Slytherin first year yesterday and he might have been Mr. Hulk's ... I mean Bryson's brother."

James' eyes focused on me and he smiled. It's kind of surprising how much I identify his face with a smile. He seems almost empty without it. I'm glad it's back.

"Attacking first years? Now that's sexy," he said, his voice whispering over my skin.

Is he trying to drive me crazy? Because if that's his goal he could just quit; he's already succeeded.

His lips brushed against mine and he made to pull away. My head started pounding immediately in protest. My fingers twitched and against my volition wrapped around his collar, pulling him back to me.

I suppose it was because I'd just realized something ... I couldn't live without James Potter. Without his arms around me. Without his lips on mine. Because at this moment, for some reason, I need him.

I abandoned my grip on his collar and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself even closer to him.

James should have found someone taller to become obsessed with his kisses. I mean, he has to bend a good bit to reach my lips; that must be killer on his neck. Hold on ... heh heh ... did I say obsessed? Because I'm not, not at all.

"James," I whispered, my lips brushing his again. He ran a hand through my hair and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek before pulling away.

"We need to get out of here," he whispered, "Bryson might come back with some of his goonies." Taking me by the hand, James led me through these dark back corridors. He never hesitated and it was obvious that he used them often. I smiled a bit, realizing these corridors were probably key players in his successful pranking record.

As we walked I managed to catch glances out of the other entrances to the corridors and I was astounded to see areas from all over the castle. Even though we never once walked up or down a flight of stairs the corridor led to areas on all of the floors. Definitely magical. I noticed as we continued on we were heading toward parts of the corridor that were progressively older and less maintained. The entrance corridors were getting smaller and more cramped, the ceiling stone was sagging in a bit, and the rock walls weren't as well made.

We finally stopped at a small exit, that looked suspiciously like all of the others, and James went in first, inching through sideways, squeezing through the small space. He let go of my hand as he faded through the doorway.

My view of the other side was obscured by the ripples his passage caused in the hidden door. I guess that's another consequence of the older passageways; the doorways ripple more. This must have been a prototype or something for the one we came through.

I inched in, happy I had a good deal more room than James. I stuck my right hand out in front of me and had to repress the urge to giggle as the liquid nothingness tickled my hand like a feather I couldn't quite see.

My wrist was just passing through the doorway when my hand ran into something. I felt around a bit and decided it was James' back (at lest I sincerely hope it's his back), stupid git. He's blocking my way out.

There's no way I'll be able to squeeze into a space that small. I gave James a gentle shove. He didn't move. Ugh! I pulled my hand back and braced it on the wall in front of me.

This is so uncomfortable. I let my hand slide down the wall and it caught on a rough spot in the rock. I absentmindedly picked at the area with my fingernail, tapping my foot in annoyance. I still couldn't see through the doorway since the ripples were slowly fading inward. Only the dark edges were clear.

Oh my gods!

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a _whoosh_ of air gushed by my left side.

What was that!

I hesitantly moved my left hand toward the corridor, which had grown even darker, and it bumped into a wall.

Oh my god! A wall? What's a wall doing there? I'm trapped!

**ooo...ooo**

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! If you are not trapped in a tiny enclosed space, like a certain heroine, or being threatened by a rather hulking man a review would be especially appreciated.

**Daystar** - You realize you're the one who told me to take it out in the first place. Oh well ... took you long enough on chap. 6. hehe. I'm going to do my letter, scouts honor (and we all know what I good girl scout I am). You should edit chap. 7. Right now, this very instant.

**cuddlyjill **- Who indeed?

**TajM** - I doubt it's the carnivorous sunflower you spotted. It may be a variety of strangling ivy or perhaps it's that rather viscious taragon herb that keeps trying to poke my eyes out. I agree ... that 3-day log in button is after me and my sanity (what's left of it anyway).

**Procrastinator-starting2moro** - Sirius is priceless. And I would desperately love to rent James' hands as well. He really ought to start up a business.

**Fizzy** - But of course he will. It's James!

**Prongsie-Jamesie **- Thank you ever so much. I know how viscious those sunflowers can be. You sure have a lot of sisters. Me, I've got one brother, but he's so annoying I just ignore him. Glad you liked the belt thing, I wasn't too sure about putting that in.

**Sunflour** - First, I love the pen name, very classy. Second, you should read more Lily/James, they're only the best pairing ever!

**prongsiexlilyxflower** - She did indeed. Good on you for noticing.

**suckerforlove** - Dear ol' Paddy and the adorable things he says.

Thanks and Hugs for:** slippersRfuzzy, GoddessoftheMaan, Jen-bob-ohio, Withered Quill, Seren Lunar Echo, graceypoo, skyhoofhearted, Amber Tinted, JeminaDOTMS, chunky-01, Maxie Fonseca, cricketater, 4theoneandonly, Ctimene, **and** october tuscany**.


	7. In Which Lily is Claustrophobic

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 7: In Which Lily is Claustrophobic

or

In Which Lily Discovers an Intense Dislike for Christmas Trees

Our heroine's last sticky situation:

Oh my god! A wall? What's a wall doing there? I'm trapped!

**ooo...ooo**

I squeezed my shoulders perpendicular to the passageway and placed both of my hands on the newly arrived wall. I imagine I looked something like a mime, discovering I was in a box. Except unlike a mime, this is real. I'm trapped!

I twisted back parallel with the walls and quickly stuck my hand through the doorway, seeking the assurance that I wasn't truly trapped (except by that git, Potter). Of course, as soon as I'd done that I realized I had once again set off the ripples. Now I couldn't see through the blasted doorway again. Darn, stupid, worthless, motherless, useless doorway!

I took a deep breath.

I am not going to panic.

I am not claustrophobic.

So now worries, right?

I hit the button that made my watch glow. It's 9:35.

Can one develop claustrophobia late in life (like the teen years)?

Nah ... right?

9:36.

How long has Potter been standing there?

It's been at least 20 minutes (or 2, but who's counting?).

9:37.

What if it's not him?

What if he's dead?

Can you be dead if you're standing up?

I'm sure it's possible.

Oh gods, he could be dead!

9:38.

I have to get out of here.

I can't wait anymore!

I'm getting out of here right now!

I inched myself right up to the doorway and I felt the nothingness rippling around me. I pressed up against Potter's back and he still didn't move.

Of course, I can't let a little thing like a big, strong man standing in my way stop me (think about what that could do to my reputation!).

Using all of my strength, I bent down a bit and shoved my shoulder right into the small of Potter's back. It worked beautifully! I practically flew out of the corridor.

As soon as I'd cleared the doorway I sank to my knees. I realized I was shaking. I tried to stop, but my limbs just kept trembling. Stupid muscles.

You know, I might be a slight bit claustrophobic now that I think about it. I mean, good lords above, that was scary. I took a deep breath and released it slowly, giving my heart time to stop racing, so that I could hear something other than its pounding in my ears.

I looked up and saw Potter had sunk down on the floor, rubbing his back. I was about to say a few choice words to him about leaving me trapped in a small space for ... well if not 20 minutes, close enough cough 4 cough. Then I caught sight of another pair of feet behind Potter.

I slowly raised my eyes up, up the robe, up the chest ... I had an idea of who this was, but I didn't want it to be.

Oh dear gods!

I looked up and met Professor Vittles sour eyes.

"Well, well, well, both our head students out and about during classes. I wouldn't have expected this of you Miss Evans, although Mr. Potter on the other hand has made it a tradition." Vittles smirked, and James threw him a mock salute. "But best of all, it seems that I've discovered the secret entrance to the little paths you and your friends use to evade teachers."

I was surprised that Vittles managed to get the words out he was sneering so much. He must practice in front of his mirror at night; that's the only explanation. I looked at James and felt a pang of guilt; he looked so stricken.

It's all my fault, isn't it? If it weren't for me being so stupid/slightly claustrophobic, Vittles wouldn't know where the passageways were. And if James hadn't been helping me get away from Mr. Hulk, this definitely wouldn't be happening.

Vittles stalked around us and put his hand through the wall. "Clever," he said, and with a creepy evil little giggle he pushed his way through the wall. He's enjoying this way too much.

I crawled over to James, still feeling terribly guilty, and put my arms around him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"No, it's alright," he said, moving so I was sprawled over his lap, "I'll just have to let the boys know ..."

So that was why he was taking this so hard, his friends. He must be feeling like he let them down. I doubt they'll take it too badly (if he leaves me out of the story; I sometimes get the feeling they don't like me very much). Still, it's kind of cute when he's goes all ultra-loyal and starts worrying about his friends.

James wrapped an arm around me and gently touched the side of my face. "If I'd known you were scared, I'd have just slugged Vittles and taken the detentions." I giggled a bit as he displayed a mock punch.

I can't believe I just giggled, it's so ... girly.

He smiled a heart stopping, bone melting, 'I am the sexiest man on earth' smile and I remembered why I was feeling girly. It's all his fault, stupid git. I smiled back and he groaned, letting out a sigh.

"Sirius is going to kill me," he whispered, dropping his head on my shoulder, pulling me into a tight hug.

This feels really nice ... like nothing in the world could ever hurt me. He should so consider renting out his hugs in addition to his hands. I'm telling you this guy could make a fortune if he put his mind to it.

"I doubt Sirius will kill you. He'll probably think it's funny ..." Sirius thinks everything is funny. I mean how many people crack up while buttering toast in the mornings because it's just _sooo_ amusing.

James lifted his head up and smiled a bit. His eyes caught mine and I couldn't move.

Well, I couldn't move except for the invisible force pulling my lips closer to his, but do I even need to mention that anymore? I mean, it's become a foregone conclusion that I can't go anywhere without these magnets switching on.

His lips had just brushed mine when Vittles stormed out of the corridor (well, really squeezed out, he's much bulkier than James).

I jerked back from Potter and ended up half-sitting on the floor with one leg sprawled over Potter's lap.

I'm going to die of embarrassment.

I'm going to internally combust with humiliation.

Professor Vittles just caught me kissing Potter. (Of all people, why him? WHY?)

I think I'm turning red. I can literally feel my cheeks heating up.

Vittles just stood there staring at us for a second and I wished that the floor would turn into quicksand and suck me up.

"I suppose I must trade in a whale for a minnow," Vittles said, with a melodramatic sigh. "I was so looking forward to finding the rumored secret passage ways through the school, but I suppose a little hidey hole for lovers will have to do."

What? How could he have not seen the passage ways, I mean they were right there ... right there behind that stone wall I triggered.

Score! I am the queen of awesomeness! (Even if the whole thing was slightly unintentional.)

Vittles rather sad look suddenly brightened. "I still get to humiliate our school Heads, though!" That sick sick man. How can he get pleasure out of humiliating people (me specifically, I'm just so ... well, the sort of person who shouldn't be humiliated)?

"You little lovers can both do detention tonight with me. Meet me in my classroom at 8:30."

Detention! I haven't had a detention since last year. I was trying so hard to be a nice responsible Head Girl and now I have a detention. This is all Potter's fault! But at least I don't have to feel bad about letting Vittles find his secret passageways (since he didn't)! I love those extra surprise bonuses that come with bad things.

"We are _not_ lovers!" Potter said, his voice filled with surprise and indignation. I snapped my eyes to him. Am I that vile that he doesn't even want Vittles to know he's been kissing me? Am I that repulsive?

Oh gods, what if it's my blood? You don't think ... no, no, it couldn't be. He's not like that. He wouldn't. Would he? Besides, I kind of thought he was enjoying those kisses. Even if I was ... not.

Vittles raised his eyebrow. I don't blame him; I mean, he'd just seen us kissing. I looked back at Potter and shook my head at the ridiculous innocent face he was pulling. Turning his head toward me, he winked.

What is he up to? Oh ... he's trying to get us out of detention, isn't he? Honestly, you'd think he could come up with a better excuse, like I'd really been performing CPR because he'd momentarily stopped breathing at the shock of being accused of using secret passage ways, which he would _never_ use (even if he did know about them). Really, couldn't he just acknowledge that we'd lost and needed to go recoup our losses and get to our next class ... Defense Against the Dark Arts with Vittles. Darn!

Maybe I should just declare my life is over and become that person who takes orders at the drive through.

At least he isn't ashamed about kissing me. Not that it matters, but ... never mind.

"Oh, really, Mr. Potter," Vittles said, his voice dripping with so much skepticism I was almost tempted to ask him if he had a sponge so I could mop it up a bit.

"I suppose you must at least attempt to weasel out of detention," he continued, "But I really can't let this one go since I do have proof."

"What proof?" James asked in a voice that made it sound like he was bartering for ... well, I'm not sure, but something.

Vittles waved his wand and muttered a spell under his breath.

I felt my lips tingling ... and my cheek. What's going on? What did he do? I'm having the most desperate urge to pin Potter to the ground and kiss him senseless.

Make it stop! Make it stop!

I looked at Potter against my better judgment and got a start. His lips were glowing pink. I hesitantly looked at Vittles who was smirking with self-satisfaction and I knew my lips must be glowing as well. Potter swiped a hand at my cheek and I realized he'd kissed me there as well.

Great. Just great. I'm a nice glowing Christmas tree of Potter's kisses. I hate Christmas trees!

Maybe I should cover my head with a bag. That could work quite well ... if I had a bag. My lack of preparedness ruins all of my best plans. How about I rake my hair in front of my face like Cousin It from the Addams Family? That could work!

My thoughts were cut off by Vittles who started laughing. I mean _really _laughing. Not just a chuckle or passing kind of laugh, but a full, straight out, leaning on the wall for support laugh. I've never heard him laugh like that before. It's kind of freaking me out. I wish he'd stop. Besides what's he even laughing at?

"I don't believe I even want to know," he choked out in between his laughs, sounding eerily like a kid who couldn't stop laughing.

So wherever Potter kissed me recently is glowing. So what? Big deal. At least he hadn't been kissing my neck (now that would be something to laugh at). I didn't do any embarrassing kissing (although kissing Potter in general is kind of embarrassing). I only kissed his lips and ... Oh Crinkle French Fry Saints of the Worlds, please let it not be true ... and his shoe.

I looked down in horror and sure enough, there it was, glowing on his shoe, my payment for being rescued.

It's glowing pink! Pink!

I didn't even have to think before I grabbed the shoe off of his foot and hugged it, with the laces side toward me, to my chest. James looked at me in confusion.

Thank you lords above, he hadn't seen it! Those Crinkle French Fry Saints always come through for you.

Vittles was now sagging against the wall, clutching his sides still laughing hysterically. I know what he's thinking. Sicko! I guess Crinkle French Fries can't do everything, but at least Potter didn't see it.

"Well we've got to be going," I said, scrambling to my feet and physically dragging James up with me, "Things to do, places to see, people to murder, desks to break ..." I trailed off as we finally turned a corner and were out of sight.

Gods, I'm going to die in detention tonight. I won't be able to face Vittles; I just won't.

"What was that about?" James asked, his walk slightly off as he hurried after my quick steps in only one shoe.

Oh, I know what it's about, but there is no way I'm ever telling you. Ever! Never Ever! Never Ever plus two!

Ahem ... well, I'm sure if he could read my mind he'd get the idea.

I pulled the shoe out a bit and looked at it, still glowing. I hugged it back to my chest. I'll just put it in my bag. Wait ... where's my bag? Oh great. Just brilliant, I've lost my bag and I have no clue where to even begin looking for it.

"I don't know where my bag is," I said, my voice cracking a bit.

Why do I sound like I'm about to cry?

Why are my stupid eyes leaking?

Why am I having trouble not whimpering?

Why can't I just admit to myself I want to cry?

I'm not even asking myself to admit anything about this crying thing to ... to ... James Potter or someone like him ... just me.

I want to cry.

Oh good. I hate it when I have to lie to myself. After all, if there's one person you should definitely be honest with, that's yourself.

Then I spotted it, my salvation ... a girl's bathroom. Perfect! Beyond perfect! I shot a glance at Potter and saw that he hadn't noticed the bathroom yet (I suppose that's a good thing, lord knows we don't need him noticing the girl's room).

As we walked past the doorway, I stopped in mid-step, changed directions fast as lightning, and raced straight into the bathroom. I sank against the wall as the door banged shut behind me and let myself slide to the floor. A highly embarrassing whimper escaped my lips as I reached the floor and I hugged Potter's shoe even tighter against my chest, just desperate for something to hang on to.

"Lily!" My head shot up from where I'd let it sink on to my knees at James Potter's shout. I didn't answer; he then commenced banging on the wall.

Couldn't he tell that I was having an emotional breakdown? I mean, I'd just raced into the girls bathroom like it was my one salvation ... does that say emotional breakdown to anyone else, because I sure see that. Someone needs to go out there and inform that boy that when a lady is having an emotional breakdown he needs to stay the heck away or nasty and unpleasant things will happen to him. Like getting his limbs ripped off or having his eyeballs poked out with a nail file or ... I really shouldn't fantasize like this when I'm in the middle of a breakdown. I wouldn't want to give myself ideas.

Another sob escaped me in spite of my valiant attempts to suppress my crying. James shouted my name again. I didn't answer.

Can he not just give up and go away? I'm trying to be miserable here!

I yelped in surprise and nearly levitated off of the floor, as the door flew open and the one, the only James Tristan Potter waltzed into the girl's bathroom.

**ooo…ooo**

Thank you for reading! If you have free time or can make free time or are avoiding your summer homework feel free to review. It might be a while before the next update, but I'll get it up as soon as I can.

**Daystar** – Hope you had fun on the ol' vacation. I left you a lot of things to do. A new letter to write and a new chapter to edit. I just hope you can keep yourself occupied in my absence.

**Freya Racinna** – No worries about reviewing and certainly not reason to hit your head. I like to think there are multitudes of people reading my fic who haven't reviewed, so you can always help fuel that fantasy. I do like your words. I'm not so great about making up words although the stupid spell check seems to think I do all of the time. Thanksamillion!

**TajM** – I feel extremely special. Hehe. Yeah, the non-verbal spells, I'd already written up this chapter when HBP came out and I was rather mad that I had to fix things if I wanted to stay canon, so I rather insulted the non-verbal things. They deserved it though.

**HauntedAngel** – The Marauders are the best! Sorry I'm evil, but I've kind of developed this affection for cliffhangers. It's just so much fun to torture my beta with them.

**Procrastinator-starting2moro** – I'm not sure beating up the little kids will land you a James Potter. It's probably worth a try, though. I have a feeling that James mainly thinks it's sexy because his darling little Lily was the one doing. He's such a sap.

**Lady Radcliffe** – Cloning would be an excellent idea. I bet I could make a fortune renting him out.

**suckerforlove** – Hopefully not indeed!

**PsychoLeopard** – Fan of Wrede's? Most definitely. I love her enchanted forest chronicles! … and Mairelon the Magician and the Magician's Ward and I really really love Sorcery and Cecilia or the Enchanted Chocolate Pot and I enjoyed the Grand Tour as well. I need to get a life, don't I?

**FrEgOrGeLuVeR225** – I'm glad you like Lily. She's pretty cool.

**devOtion** – Of course we can't let anything too bad happen to Lily. Then where would Harry be?

**Withered Quill** – No worries, I've done my share of embarrassing reviewing, so I can completely sympathize. Don't worry Lily and James wouldn't let anything keep them from their invisible strings.

**Shattered Serenity** – I do feel most special. Please don't pull out the gun! I'm no good at working under pressure.

**Prongsie-Jamesie** – Wow, 7, that's a lot. I can't even imagine. You know James. Sure she's snogging him, but is she helplessly in love with him? These questions will plague him late at night until the matter is resolved one way or another.

**Sunflour **– I think all of my favorites are Lily/James, but unfortunately they tend to be of the sort that are abandoned and never updated. You are more than welcome to check them out, though.

**famousindafuture** – Don't cry!

Thanks and Hugs to: **skyhoofhearted, Jen-bob-ohio, drumer girl, Lady-Slytherin-Warrior, deceptive shadows, Romula Linders, GoddessoftheMaaN, Mischief16, graceypoo, Kiyda, Seren Lunar Echo, funkysirius, siriusforeva, iris2489, Brighton Baby, x-woman1, Kit49, FireDemonKitsune84, Kuddls, **and **HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle.**


	8. In Which Lily Retaliates

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 8: In Which Lily Retaliates

or

In Which Lily is in the Girl's Bathroom (with Potter)

Our heroine's last predicament:

I yelped in surprise and nearly levitated off of the floor, as the door flew open and the one, the only James Tristan Potter waltzed into the girl's bathroom.

**ooo...ooo**

The girl's bathroom. The keyword there was _girl's _(in case you didn't catch that).

Last time I checked, James Potter was **not** a girl. In fact, he was pretty much the anti-thesis of a girl, with his masculine jaw line and muscular figure and big strong hands (arms too) and ... Oh my gods! Who planted those thoughts in my head? What was I thinking?

This isn't the sort of thing I can just explain away ... let's just say I'm insane/suffering from a emotional breakdown and I simply wanted to prove that Potter shouldn't be in a girl's bathroom (Ha! I am the master of BS; I can bluff my way through anything).

All of that stuff about his yummy muscular figure and strong masculine jaw line that makes me just itch to run my fingers down it was ... darn, I did it again, didn't I?

What is wrong with me? Why is this happening to me?

Another choked off sob bubbled up and the tears started pouring faster.

I'm losing my mind. I can't even think normally anymore.

Why is this happening to me?

Who did I offend?

What great cosmic being is using me as the butt of a very sick joke?

I'd given up trying to stop the sobs at this point. I didn't even remember that James was there anymore until he knelt down beside me and pulled me into his arms, pressing my head to his shoulder and caressing my back in gentle, slow, soothing motions.

As I regained some of my self-control (and dignity) I managed to pull away a little and found myself looking him in the eyes.

His delectable, intriguing, amazing, entrancing, beautiful, hazel eyes. I'm such a goner.

"I'm sorry, Lily. Gods, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

I shook my head, words failing me in the face of his intense gaze. This isn't his fault. This is my fault! Me! I'm to blame.

I'm the one who kissed his shoe!

I'm the one who just had a 'slight' bought of claustrophobia!

I'm the one who got thrown out of Divination!

I'm the one who nearly died at the hands of some crazed Slytherin!

I'm the one having a gods cursed emotional breakdown!

And I most certainly am the one who is absolutely convinced that there is a voice in my head talking about James Potter and his jaw line (and muscles and lips and eyes and hands and I'm going to shut up now)!

But most undeniably and irrevocably of all, I'm the one who is positive that someone has installed magnets into James Potter's lips!

If that's not insanity, I don't know what is!

So to summarize, James really needn't be apologizing when I'm the one in need of psychiatric help.

Since this is all clearly my fault, I did what any self-respecting crazy person would do ... I latched back on to James' shoulder (which is actually very nice and warm and comforting) and renewed my crying ... this time over the fact I miss my sanity. James wrapped his arms more firmly around me and I felt much better. How odd is that?

It's probably because of those hands ... they're just so darn comforting. I cried myself out and even after my tears had stopped, James kept me in his arms.

"We're having a pretty rough day, aren't we?" He said, after a while, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," I agreed, giving a watery laugh. James shook his head and brushed some of my hair out of my face.

"I just don't understand how Vittles didn't see the passageways."

I was so busy contemplating the cute confusion on his face that I almost didn't catch what he was saying well enough to respond. I pretty much heard, "Vittles ... passageways." But I am a credit to my Head Girl title after all since I managed to put those two catch words into a whole thought. I sure hope he was talking about Vittles not being able to find the passageway, or else this is going to come out really weird.

"Oh, that's my fault," (oh joy, something else to add to the list, although this one's actually a good thing), "I somehow triggered a doorway or wall or something that shut the hallway off from the main one."

"Really? I didn't know that was possible," James said, his eyes lighting up with interest, "I'll have to tell the boys about that. They'll definitely be interested. If we could open and close entrances ... just think of the possibilities that would create ..."

I cleared my throat and his gaze came back to me from where he'd been staring, at some future prank only he could even imagine.

"Right," he said, blushing a bit and looking utterly adorable ... in an un-adorable way, "Well, we'll have to see if we can't get that hallway back open ..."

"If I were a trouble maker of dubious intention, which I'm not, but hypothetically speaking," I said, in a disinterested tone, cutting him off, "I would leave the hallway shut off because Vittles will be sure to check back there now in hopes of catching other ..." I almost said couples, but that's ridiculous.

Potter and I are _not_ a couple. Not in the least. And the only reason I keep associating him with words like cute, adorable, and delectable is that I just had an emotional breakdown. And if you've had an emotional breakdown before, you know how damaging they can be to your brain.

"... people," I finished after a long pause that made the whole sentence sound convoluted. But really I'm being a nice person, giving James tips on trouble making and all.

"For a non-trouble maker, you sure think like one," James said, giving my hair a gentle tug. I tried not to shiver as he ran his fingers through my hair.

What? It's cold in here, ok? That's why I'm shivering, no other reason.

"You were looking for your bag, weren't you?" James whispered, his face extremely close to me.

All I could do was nod dumbly. Not because he was so close or anything. I think what happened is that emotional breakdown damaged my speech processors.

Nuzzling my neck, his words brushed over my skin, "You left it in Divination."

"Oh," I said. Not exactly eloquent, I know, but my speech processors are broken. Give me a break. Besides I was also busy trying to resist the urge to run in the opposite direction. The hair thing was fine, but I'm rather paranoid about the neck thing now and I wish he would stop.

"I stashed it with mine near the Defense room."

I put one of my hands on his cheek and pushed him back a bit (mainly away from my neck). Am I the only one who finds the neck thing rather odd? I mean, it's just so vampirish. All and all, I'd just like to head off any attempted neck kissing, as it gives me the willies.

James smiled at me in a way that made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world (even though I knew my eyes were red and my skin was all blotchy). He could have any girl he wants if he just smiles at her like that once a day.

Then the magnets switched on.

Our lips had just met and James was pulling me closer to him, gently parting my lips with his, when the door swung open and a group of giggling third years filed in.

We sprang apart and I leapt to my feet. James followed me up, although he was a bit slower. I braced myself against the wall, staring wide-eyed at the chattering girls, waiting for them to notice us. One girl, with the kind of silky black hair a red-head like me would be willing to kill for, glanced our way and her mouth dropped open. I gave her a small finger wave and a smile.

Maybe if I'm nice she won't do anything annoying ... like scream. I glanced at James and saw he was inching toward the door.

Then the girl started screaming. Stupid screaming sissy! All of the girls whipped around and stared at me in confusion. Then they spotted James and decided to lend their voices to the screaming cacophony in the bathroom. Bathrooms have really horrible acoustics.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I nearly ran over James as we bolted out the door and into the crowded hall. It was class change. Maybe we'll be able to escape in the crowd. James was ahead of me and I was struggling to keep up with him as we wove through the throng of people. Unfortunately for me, I was falling farther behind James with every step. Stupid tall people with their stupid long legs and consequently long strides.

"James!" I cried over the loud din of students. He turned around just in time to see me nearly get run over by a huge kid who must easily weigh 3 times what I do.

When I got my feet back under me and wasn't about to get run over, I looked for James. He was gone. Great! I peered at my surroundings. I was actually near the Dark Arts room, which conveniently enough was my next class.

I felt someone brush against my side and I looked down. Shoot. I've still got James' shoe. At least it isn't glowing anymore. That probably means my face isn't glowing anymore either! Wonderful.

I started down the hall, then an arm wrapped around my waist. I whirled around and saw James, grinning goofily at me.

"Didn't think I would abandon you, love, did you?" I felt my stomach flip-flop at his endearment ... 'love'.

_Well, that doesn't mean he loves you, _I reminded myself sternly. Which was a darn good thing because I'd hate to be forced to break his heart. You know ... since I don't feel the same way. He's such a nice guy. And smart, too, hopefully smart enough not to do something dimwitted, like fall in love with me since I could never love him back. Never ever (with the possible exception of insanity, but I can't be held accountable for that).

I realized I was staring at him and broke my gaze, blushing.

"Come on," he said, guiding me down the hall.

I'm lucky no one can read thoughts at Hogwarts or else they'd think I'm in love with James Potter, which I'm not ... just in case whoever you are is listening. And by the way, it's not polite in the least to listen in to other people's thoughts, so you should cease and desist immediately.

James led me up to a painting next to the Defense classroom.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said, winking at the pretty girl in the painting. She giggled and fluttered her impossibly long eyelashes at him.

"Can I get those bags back from you?"

"Sure," she said, increasing the eyelash fluttering. I suppressed the urge to gag in disgust. Typical Potter, even flirting with portraits.

The portrait swung open to reveal a small niche in the wall. James grabbed both of our bags out and swung them over his shoulder. I tried to grab mine from him, but he kept his hand firmly around both straps. He's such a git. Why won't he just give me my bag?

The portrait swung closed again and the girl started complimenting Potter on his 'dreamy eyes' (come on, they aren't _that_ 'dreamy'). Potter seemed to be enjoying himself, though. He didn't even notice when I gave a little cough to get his attention.

Well fine, he can just be like that. I stormed off into the Defense room and sat down next to Remus, who was frantically scribbling out the homework.

"Done," he said, putting down his quill with a flourish.

He looked at me curiously. "Is that James' shoe?" He asked, and I hit him over the head with it.

"Of course not," I said. And even if it was (which it is), I most certainly wouldn't tell him

I wonder how he knew. It looks like a pretty normal shoe to me. How in the world would you just know it was Potter's?

You wouldn't! You couldn't! So why would Remus immediately assume I was carrying Potter's shoe around? Do I look like the sort of girl would carry around James Potter's shoe! No, I don't!

I hit Remus again.

He yelped, "What was that for?"

"For assuming." Stupid assuming Remus and his stupid correct assumptions.

I turned to the front of the classroom as Vittles walked in and stalked up to his desk. Apparently the hysterical laughing mood was gone. Pity. It's actually kind of amusing ... as long as he isn't laughing at me (which he had been, so it isn't all that amusing now that I think about it).

"Notes today," he barked and the entire class groaned.

"Remus," I whispered, "Can I borrow some parchment and a quill?" I can't use my own because stupid Potter has my stupid bag.

"Are you sure you don't want to keep the parchment?"

I rolled my eyes as he passed the supplies over. Remus was the sort who always insisted on using the correct words.

For instance, we did well, not good.

Or here's a theoretical conversation:

"Can I take this book?"

"I don't know _can_ you?"

Theoretical me rolls my eyes at his theoretical stupidness.

"May I take it?"

"Yes, you _may_."

I was diligently copying the notes Vittles was flicking on to the board with his wand when something sharp stung into the back of my head. I rubbed the back of my head in annoyance.

After a quick glance to make sure Vittles wasn't looking, I spun around in my seat and glared at everyone behind me. They didn't pay much attention.

Goodness, couldn't they tell I was trying to glare at them? I eyed them all suspiciously and slowly turned back around.

None of them had given any indication, not a smile or a twitch, to indicate they'd been the one who'd done it. I spotted what had hit me on the floor next to my chair as I turned, so I leaned down and grabbed it.

It was a balled up bit of parchment. I scrabbled it open and discovered it was actually a muggle sticky note. Who in the world would have muggle sticky notes (except for me)? As far as I know I'm the only one who uses them. They're so useful ... I always keep a few in my bag.

My bag ... which Potter has. That ... that ... idiot! I strongly dislike him! I felt another sting, this time on my arm.

I whipped around, not even bothering to check if Vittles was looking and glared right at Potter, who was bent diligently over his notes with my pad of sticky notes sitting innocently next to his parchment. I stared daggers at his stupid shaggy head of hair and turned back around.

I hadn't even picked up my quill yet when a ball of packed post-it note hit my ear, rebounded off the table, and landed under Remus' chair.

That is it!

That is more than it!

That sorry, unworthy, piece of ... refried jelly bean! He's going to get it.

I swooped down under Remus' chair, grabbed the post-it ball, twirled in my seat, and fired it at James Potter's head.

Since it's such an exceptionally large target, I was actually confident in my ability to hit it.

I did it! It hit him right on top of the head. Score!

He clearly hadn't been expecting retaliation and his head shot up and he cried, "What the ..." He cut off when Vittles glared at him.

"Mr. Potter, a word of advice. The best way to show your feelings of affection for a woman is not to pellet her with balls of parchment."

James actually had the grace to blush at that. I agree entirely with Vittles (for the first time ever), not that it matters since Potter doesn't have any feelings for me, affectionate or otherwise ... he just can't.

"And Miss Evans."

No, not me! I swear I'll never retaliate again!

"While I understand the desire for vengeance, you should remember that it was your poor decision to become involved with such a delinquent that has placed you in this position in the first place."

I am not 'involved' with him! No 'involvement'! None! Not any! I hate Vittles. What a jerk. I'm really red (think tomato or fire hydrant); I just know I am. My face feels like it's on fire. This is so embarrassing.

"Now, back to the notes, please," Vittles said, flicking even more notes on to the board.

I'm having such a bad day.

The bell rang at the end of class and I couldn't have been more relieved. I stayed in my seat until the entire class (including Vittles) had filed out because I have a feeling that I would do best just to avoid the world until later.

"Ugh," I groaned and levered myself out of my seat. I don't particularly feel like moving.

"You have really good aim, sweetheart. You aren't interested in being my reserve chaser, are you?"

"Shut-up, Potter." I hadn't even realized he was still in here.

"Here's your bag."

"Oh ... thanks," I said sarcastically. I took my bag from him, none to nicely (I more snatched it), and slung it over my shoulder. I looked down at the shoe sitting on my desk.

"Oh, James, dear, here's your shoe." I held it up by the laces and let it swing back and forth.

"Thanks," he said eagerly, reaching for it.

I gave it an extra forceful swing and let it soar into the air. Hehe.

"I've got it," James called. I guess that's the seeker in him coming out. He just loves to catch things. With his head turned upward, watching the shoe as it began its descent, he moved forward to catch it and ran right into me.

"Potter," I cried, as the force that he ran into me with caused us to stumble backwards in a tangle of limbs. I gave a short shriek as I felt the table run into my butt. Not because it hurt or anything, but because we all know what me (while I'm entangled with Potter) running into a table means.

Sure enough, James and I went sprawling over the surface and with a completely clichéd and over-used crack, the thing split into thousands of tiny little pieces, leaving gravity to do its work on James and me.

I caught a surprised look in James' eyes while we fell. I can't think why he's surprised. Honestly, who didn't see this coming?

I bounced a bit off the floor as I landed, only to be squished solidly flat by Potter's impact on top of me. My breath wheezed as I sucked in gulps of air, trying to replace what Potter had knocked out of my lungs.

"I'm sorry!" James cried, trying to scramble off of me. Unfortunately his attempts were foiled by his shoe, which had landed near his left foot. When he tried to get better footing, he tripped (looking quite adorable while he was about it) and sprawled back over me and this time the magnets switched on.

Stupid magnets.

Before I knew what was happening (obviously) that accidental kiss turned into kisses, and that's pretty much how Vittles found us when he walked back into his classroom 10 minutes later. In my defense, we _had_ moved off the floor a bit. I was sitting, braced against a desk leg and James was leaning into me.

I had actually been enjoying myself ... whatever else I can say about James Potter, he is an excellent kisser, but we'd already established that; hadn't we?

I pushed James away from me as soon as I realized we had an audience.

What had I been thinking? I'm going insane! Why, oh why, must these magnets plague me? The world is so unfair!

Alright, I need to calm down. Another emotional breakdown is the last thing I need right now. Deep breaths, Lily, deep breaths.

"While you have often expressed your wish to make my classroom a second home, Mr. Potter, I would appreciate it if you left romantic rendezvous to other places."

"I ... I ... " I started a few sentences that never quite made it into being, but if they had come out, they would have been something like this: "I'm having a terrible day and if you continue to make it worse I'll rip out your rib cage and use it as umbrella." Or, the ever popular, "I swear, if I were an extremely talented and powerful witch in Transfiguration, I would transform you both into frogs and toss you into the lake, so I'd never have to see you again."

I decided (using much forethought) that these sentences would not be received well and unanimously voted with myself that leaving would be my best strategy.

"Umm ... well I've got to go." I ran into another desk as I backed toward the door and after stumbling around it I looked up to see Vittles and Potter regarding me oddly.

"Bye!" I cried and ran out of the room. As soon as I'd left that accursed and utterly horrible room, I stopped and leaned against the wall next to the door. Out of sight to those in the room, but easily noticeable to those who might be leaving said room.

I wasn't waiting for James or anything, but just ... catching my breath. From the front of the classroom to the door is a long run ... really.

Oddly enough James didn't come out, which didn't really matter since I wasn't waiting for him or anything.

I edged back to the door and peered through. I saw James fixing the desk while Vittles watched. That's nice of James. I suppose it is his fault it's broken, though.

"I must say Mr. Potter, you could not have picked better."

James looked up, "She's wonderful, isn't she?"

Whoa, they're talking about me!

"Quite a remarkable young lady. I'm simply surprised she would have you."

I'm not having him! Oh Merlin, that sounded wrong. But still, I'm not.

James blushed. "I know," he muttered.

Well that's not exactly true. I mean, I'm not too good for him or anything. And when you get down to it, he's not too good for me either. The problem is that we're just not too good together.

**ooo...ooo**

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you feel like reviewing it most certainly wouldn't be discouraged.

**Daystar** – I really like my letter. I think this is definitely a good one. There are certainly some things I would like to fix, but it's better than most. Of course I'll probably hate it by tomorrow. The movies were fun yesterday!

**HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle** – James didn't move because being the lovely and chivalrous gentleman he is (on occasion), he didn't wish for Lily to be caught out of class by Vittles and receive a detention. Isn't the sweet of him? You did miss the bit where Lily steals James' shoe off of his foot, but I'm sure it would be simple to find.

**devOtion** – Good picture, isn't it?

**Shattered Serenity** – Vittles does rhyme with skittles, doesn't it? Hehe. I hadn't even realized. Truth be told I named him after operation vittles, or in terms normal people understand when the allies air lifted stuff into Berlin. I guess I probably shouldn't write my fic in History class. Still it's a lovely name. Please don't pull out the gun! I promise I'll work on being a better poster.

**TajM** – Don't feel lazy! If it hadn't been so easy to make mine fit I'd never have done it. I'm just not going to put a potions professor in there. I figure that will work just fine.

**Jane** – I wouldn't say I'm obsessed with shoes. I'd just say I'm not very creative and, thus, when I'm forced to come up with something to talk about I simply revert to one of my old standbys: shoes, soap, goldfish etc …

**Sunflour** – I think they would be considered by most an item, but of course dearest Lily is still in denial and James darling is most insecure about his standings in the feelings of dearest Lily (although, it's fair to say he does believe they're an item (he just doesn't know if she's madly in love with him yet)).

**Brittany** – Who isn't trying to avoid HW? Hehe. Thanks for reading! I'm glad you liked it. I'm going to e-mail you later (when I get off my lazy but and access my e-mail (although really I wouldn't even have to get up)).

**CourtneyFaith** – Thanks ever so much! It's kind of weird to get a review from a friend of a friend, but fun nonetheless. I hope you like this new chapter.

**Genuinescence** – No worries, I'd never accuse you of being Paris Hilton. James is just in general rather hot, isn't he? Hehe.

**Vixen-raven-wolf** – I was rather worried about multiple personality disorder at first, but clearly you guys have other more pressing problems. Hehe. Just kidding. I'm glad you guys enjoyed reading my fic so far. I will be sure to watch out for butterflies and squirrels in the future.

Thanks and hugs for:** Lo, siriusforeva, skyhoofhearted, famousindafuture, FrEgOrGeLuVeR225, GoddessoftheMaaN, fae, IloveDM, Kiyda, drumer girl, Lady-Slytherin-Warrior, Procrastinator-starting2moro, FireDemonKitsune84, moviechicka, ST3, x-woman1, Duck-a-roo, me, Wrinkles the Troll, xfallsofastx, Prongsie-Jamsie, graceypoo, Missrs, Lizzieboo, chunky-01, xStillxWaitingx, **and **the-honest-liar.**


	9. In Which Lily Suffers Detention

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 9: In Which Lily Suffers (Detention)

or

In Which Lily Discovers Not Quite the Bogeyman

Our darling heroine's previous insightful thoughts:

Well that's not exactly true. I mean, I'm not too good for him. And when you get down to it, he's not too good for me. The problem is that we're just not to good for each other.

**ooo...ooo**

It's 8:29.

I am currently standing outside of Vittles' classroom and debating with myself the merits of jumping off the astronomy tower.

The astronomy tower sounds like a really good idea. If only I weren't deathly afraid of jumping from heights. Heck, I can't even manage the retaining wall in my yard without a panic attack.

I could drown myself in the lake. But that's so messy. I mean, who wants to be buried all bloated and water logged? As a matter of fact, who wants to be buried all flat and pancake-like?

Poison! Now that's an excellent idea. No visible marks and with any luck I could find a fairly painless one.

"Are you standing outside for any particular reason, Miss Evans?" I nearly jumped out of my skin as Vittles' voice sounded behind me. I slowly turned around and eyed his huge form, looming over me.

"No, not really, sir," I said. I'm going to keep this as formal as possible. Maybe he won't make any inappropriate comments if I don't.

"Well in that case, let us adjourn this little meeting to my classroom." I trailed, like a pathetic little puppy, after Vittles as he led the way up to his desk. Once we reached it he didn't sit down, but turned around and leaned back on it, crossing his arms. I had to fight the urge to warn him that leaning on desks is never a good idea and can lead to very bad things (like breaking said desks).

"Your boyfriend isn't here yet," Vittles said.

"He's not my boyfriend," I mumbled. I don't think there's much point in trying to convince Vittles we don't have any feelings for each other. After all, he did see that little hallway scene.

Gods, it's all those stupid magnets fault.

Do you think if I snuck into Potter's dorm I could somehow remove the magnets while he was sleeping? It could work, but where exactly are the magnets? And what if he woke up. That would give a whole new meaning to the word mortification. So, bad idea. It's a pity, I would dearly love to get rid of those magnets, they get me into so much trouble. Like this detention.

Am I going to have to stand here the entire time just staring at Vittles? It's not that he's ugly or anything (must girls consider him to be quite good looking for a middle aged guy), but his personality is certainly lacking in the area of long periods of standing and staring at others. I turned in relief as the door flew open and in walked James.

"Salutations, fair maiden," he said with a bow in my direction. I suppressed a smile and the urge to curtsey in return. "And good evening, wise professor."

"You are late, Mr. Potter."

"Am I?" James said, looking surprised. He looked at his watch (well his wrist really since he doesn't actually _have_ a watch). "My watch says I'm right on time, 8:30 on the dot."

Vittles stared a Potter for a second and I wondered if he was going to call him out for it, but he just shrugged. I kind of get the feeling that James and Vittles do this sort of thing all the time.

As Vittles started heading toward the door I sneaked a glance at my watch. It said 8:30. That should have been impossible. I mean it was 8:29 when I was in the hall. I looked up at James, puzzled, but he just smiled at me and gestured for me to go first in following Vittles.

Once in the hallway Vittles locked the door to his classroom and said, "Tonight we will be patrolling the hallways for couples. A fitting punishment, is it not?"

I wonder if he actually wants me to answer that. I don't think it's particularly fitting. In fact I think it's down right cruel. What could be more tortuous than spending hours with Potter _and_ Vittles. Gods, I was hoping we could just polish trophies or something like that.

So we set off. It was fairly boring work, we just walked up and down the hallways, peeked into broom closets and behind statues. We did catch a few couples, but thankfully they weren't doing anything other than holding hands.

At about 9:30 the hallways were fairly empty except for the odd seventh year hurrying back from the library and I was ready to head back to my dorm. I stifled a yawn and took another glance at my watch.

9:32

"... but of course it all depends if you're comparing for women or men. For women, of course, the answer is clear: Dove ..." Men have the oddest conversations. They've been on the subject of soap for the past 10 minutes or so. Apparently James feels Dove is the soap of choice for women. Oddly enough, that's the sort of soap I use. I wonder if that means something.

"Wait, we have to check that one," Vittles said, interrupting James and gesturing toward a broom closet door.

"I'll do this one," I said. This will be my first one. Normally when I patrol I completely skip broom closets. I figure that it doesn't really matter because I'll just catch them on their way back to their common rooms and not have to bother with the whole dark scary broom closet thing. I had this terrible fear as a child that I would open a door and the bogeyman would jump out.

I grasped the handle as James and Vittles waited patiently. I had the sudden irrational urge to not open this door.

_Stop being silly, Lily_, I scolded myself, _The bogeyman is only a figment of your imagination. _I steeled myself (there is no bogey man!), grasped the handle, turned, and pulled the door open.

My jaw dropped.

Oh my gods!

Bless my mismatched pig and shamrock socks!

Not quite the bogeyman, but equally as scaring.

I knew something was up with Ally.

"Ally ... Sirius ..." I stuttered out in shock. They broke off their rather passionate kiss and turned toward me (they also appeared to be in shock).

"I ... I can't believe it," I said. James and Vittles had obviously realized something was up because they both came to peer over my shoulder.

"Holy Sh ... Socks!" James said, cutting off his original word after catching the glare Vittles sent him. "You guys are ... in a broom closet."

That was kind of obvious. Ah well, I'm kind of in shock too. It does explain why Ally has been acting so weird and disappearing. And learning French. Hey, wait … didn't Sirius learn French too? Oh my gods, they're taking French lessons together. That's so adorable. I want a guy I can take French lessons with! That's not fair.

"Detention for the both of you with the groundskeeper tomorrow afternoon and 20 points from Gryffindor."

"Hey, now," James said, "I think the detentions ought to be enough."

Vittles rolled his eyes. "Fine, 20 points from Gryffindor, but only a detention for the gentleman." James gave a snort since Vittles hadn't changed the points he was taking off. "You'll just have to earn the points back at your Quidditch match this Saturday, Mr. Potter. Unless you're not up to it." A challenge. Vittles sure knows how to play Potter's pride.

"That doesn't seem very fair anyway," I said. After all, why should Sirius be the only with a detention.

"Of course it's fair," James and Vittles said together. Those two really spend too much time together. James needs to stop getting detentions.

They're really very similar now that I think about it. Both excel at Defense Against the Dark Arts, both are strong, both have a rather odd sense of humor, both are handsome (to ladies of their respective ages, me exempted), both are athletic, both are excessively prideful to the point it's a fault ... this is kind of creepy. James is nicer, of course, and doesn't enjoy giving homework (obviously since he doesn't do it anyway).

I looked at them. They were both gesturing for the other to talk first.

Finally James pulled a grand gesture/bow of deference and Vittles continued, "If the gentleman doesn't have the decency to find the lady a place to kiss where they won't get caught then he quite deserves a detention." James nodded in emphasis.

"Ohh," I said, as if I had experienced an epiphany even though I rather thought they were both insane, "quite so."

"Wait," I said, a thought occurring to me, "How come I got a detention then?" That was a good question. If Vittles thought James and I were kissing then shouldn't James have had the decency to take me some place we wouldn't get caught.

"I actually thought Mr. Potter chose quite a classy place for your rendezvous. I'd never seen that room before. Admittedly not as roomy as a broom closet, but if it weren't for your rotten luck with exiting practically right on top of me, you'd never have been caught."

"Wait, you caught them kissing too?" Sirius said, gesturing at James and I.

"No!" I screeched, cutting off Vittles and James who were making to answer in the affirmative.

Sirius and Ally looked from me back to them and then Sirius said, "Well, we'll just be going." He started to pull Ally down the hall. Ally gave me a small wave before turning back to follow Sirius.

"Wait, Are you guys going out!" James yelled down the hall after them. I looked at him in surprise. For someone who is normally so smart, he's acting remarkably dense. Of course they're going out. They were making out in a broom closet. They're taking French lessons together. He tied her shoe for her in Divination.

I exchanged a look with Vittles that said "what an idiot" then Sirius popped his head back around the corner.

"Of course we are you dolt." His head disappeared again, then a second later he stuck it back around. "Oh and if you see anybody later would you mind mentioning that we're going out. It's high time we spread it around a bit. Those looks Armstice has been giving Ally make me just itch to slug him, but I can't really if he doesn't know we're going out; can I?" He disappeared again.

"Well," Vittles said, "That's an unlikely match, but they do seem to suit each other, don't they?"

"I've never really thought about it," James said, "But I suppose they do."

"Yes, well, let's carry on. I would like to get this finished with." James and I both nodded.

Gods, that was a really odd experience: catching your best friend making out with a guy you'd always thought she didn't like, in the company of the man you got caught making out with (and don't really like) and the professor who caught the two of you making out (and kind of gives you the creeps).

My life is far too complicated.

"I suppose I agree with you about Dove, but what about for men?"

"Well, of course, what I use!" James said, with a rakish grin, "Irish Spring." He does smell pretty good. In fact, I rather like the way he smells.

Pretending to stumble, I took a quick sniff. Mmm ... very nice. I would kind of like to smell this Irish Spring soap more often. Maybe I should buy some. Or just smell James more often. My steps slowed a bit as I lost myself in thought.

It would be lovely to wake up to that smell every morning with warm, safe arms around me and a sleepy, loving smile to greet me. We could live in a nice little house in the country and commute into London. He could do whatever he wants, be Quidditch star or an Auror or a street cleaner for all I care and I could be a Healer. The house would have to have garden for me and a nice tree enclosed area where James could fly his broom and play Quidditch with his buddies.

There would have to be enough rooms for the kids of course. I would prefer that each child have its own room. It's hard sharing a room and while it does build cooperation, it's mainly a pain in the butt. So that means we have to have at least 4 bedrooms, preferably more. One for James and I and one for the kids. Of course, we'll have to hire a nanny or perhaps I'll work part-time until they leave for Hogwarts. You can't just leave kids running crazily over the countryside. Not that I wouldn't love being a full time mother, but I'd feel so useless if I didn't put my education to use trying to help people (which is probably one of the reasons I want to be a healer).

"MISS EVANS!" I yelped in surprise as Vittles bellowed my name.

"I ... uh ... did you want something?" I can't believe it. I was completely out of it. I didn't hear a word he said and to boot I was fantasizing about marrying Potter and living in some white-picket fence house. It's pathetic enough I was think about Potter (in fact, it's down right disgusting), but a white-picket fence?

Great gods, woman, pull yourself together!

Potter. Ewww! How sick can I get? I don't even like Potter. In fact, it's fair to say I barely tolerate him.

There's someone in my head planting these crazy thoughts and fantasies. I know it!

It's some giant government conspiracy and they're using me as a guinea pig to test out their new mind controlling techniques. What? It could happen ... maybe ... I'm very into self-delusion - have I mentioned that lately?

"We were hoping we could keep moving, but, _of course_, if you'd rather stand there and stare into space we'd be happy to oblige you."

"Oh, sorry," I said, picking up my feet and hurrying down the hall.

The rest of the detention was unremarkable. We didn't even see another soul.

"Very well, we're done for the night, you may leave," Vittles said, waving his hand in dismissal.

"Until next time, Professor," James said, throwing him a salute. Vittles rolled his eyes and swept off down the hall. James offered me his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman and I took it with a curtsy.

We walked in slow silence back to the common room. It wasn't an uncomfortable sort of silence though; it just felt like there was nothing left to say. Somehow our hands ended up all twisted together. I could have sworn I didn't move mine, but next thing I knew I was practically glued to James' side, my hand firmly grasping his.

You don't suppose that there's Velcro connecting them; do you? It could happen. It's would be a very plausible explanation. I mean why else would I wrap my hand up in his? It would completely explain why I thought I heard a faint Velcro sound as I finally wrenched my hand from his.

Speaking of odd, for some reason I had a hard time letting go after we reached the landing leading to the girl's staircase. That fact definitely supports the Velcro theory. After all, who in their right mind would _want_ to hold hands with Potter? Before I would have blamed my unwillingness to let go on the intrinsic comforting power of his hands, but perhaps it really is the Velcro!

"I can't believe it," James said, breaking the silence that had settled over us. We were both just standing on the landing. I should probably go upstairs, but I don't feel like it. I guess it's because I'm not tired (_not _that I want to spend more time with James).

"Yeah, I know. Who would have guessed?" This whole Ally/Sirius thing is kind of hard to digest. I mean, she didn't even tell me she liked him. Me! Her best friend. You'd think I would have found out something, even the tiniest inkling of something, before I found her in a broom closet with him.

"Not me."

"No kidding," I agreed.

"Well at least we know why they were acting so odd," James said.

"Yeah, you're right." And he was. He had a good point. Now Ally wouldn't have to lie to me to cover up her relationship anymore. I haven't talked to her in ages or days, I suppose. Ever since this whole magnet/invisible string/Velcro thing started up I don't have enough time for anything anymore. It's all James' fault. If he weren't so darn cute and enticing and ... utterly horrible none of this would have happened (except the Ally/Sirius thing, and Merlin only knows how that happened).

"For the first time ever?" James asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I'm sure you've been right before ..." I said in a mock thoughtful tone of voice, " ... although, nothing comes to mind."

"Hey!" James cried indignantly.

"You asked." I reminded him.

"Yeah, I did," he said with a smile, and then our eyes met.

He was pulling me in again, his stupid hazel eyes were like whirlpools pulling me further and further in. His lips brushed mine and before I knew it his arms were securely around my waist. He pulled back to take a breath and I immediately dragged his lips back to mine. He doesn't really need oxygen all that much anyway.

Then it hit me ... whirlpools, sure they're nice and pretty and they pull you in, but then don't you die in a swirling vortex of water!

I wrenched away using all of the strength I had. Those darn magnets make it so hard to pull away! If I'm going to continue my analogy to a whirlpool, this is like trying to swim away from the whirlpool ... and if we're going to be truthful, I'm starting to wonder if I know how to swim.

I fought the desperate urge to kiss him again. He looks so darn adorable with his hair all mussed and his chest rising and falling quickly trying to make up for his lack of oxygen due to my overzealous kisses ... ARGH!

Why am I thinking like this? I have to get away. Now!

I turned and barreled up the stairs. Thank the founders for not trusting boys! This is the one place in the school Potter can't follow me.

It's a pity I can't say that about girl's bathrooms anymore.

**ooo...ooo**

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed detention as much as I did. If you aren't in detention or being sucked in by whirlpools a review would be appreciated!

**Daystar** – You know, if you just hadn't told me you didn't review I probably would never have noticed. I am rather forgetful. Yes, indeed the obsession would definitely be James. And my obsession would be goldfish. I need to put a goldfish in this somewhere. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably not, it doesn't sound like a very good idea.

**Withered Quill** – We will find out about James' feelings, although the whole fic will take place from Lily's point of view.

**genuinescence** – I keep post-its in my bag too!

**TajM** – No worries. I'm more than sure I got Tristan from someone else's fic. I can't honestly remember; it just works so well, doesn't it? You don't need to do a disclaimer or anything; I don't care in the least.

**FireDemonKitsune84** – Thanks. I honestly have no idea what to tell you about how I write. Practice, I suppose, but that sounds so boring. Hmm … well, truth be told I get all of ideas from this talking fish that lives with my neighbors and was a ninja in his past life. Much more interesting that way.

**Shattered-Serenity** – I know what you mean about people looking over in class. I had the most humiliating experience when this one stupid git (ex-boyfriend sort of git) who was sitting in front of me STOLE my journal and started reading it out loud. I have never been so humiliated in my entire life (well, for that day anyway). He didn't get that it was fanfiction. Ugh. Sorry if Skittles was disturbing, I was more trying to set him up as sort of a mentor figure for James. I realize he came off as a bit harsh earlier and he really isn't all that bad, yet.

**x-woman1** – Lily has now just finished her second day of the week from hell (or the week from heaven, depending on when exactly you ask her).

**HauntedAngel **– There was a bit of Sirius-ness in this chapter, but he's really not a main character. He will play a bit of a role in the ending. Sorry there's not more.

**devOtion** – Yes, Vittles did come off as a bad guy. I was kind of aiming for him to be a strict professor who treats James like a younger brother, sort of. Obviously I failed, but hopefully that last scene straightened it out a bit.

Thanks and Hugs: **Duck-a-roo, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, GoddessoftheMaaN, Unlikely-to-bear-it, Kiyda, hawaiiangirl, Lady-Slytherin-Warrior, siriusforeva, rubic-cube, sodafizzz19, FrEgOrGeLuVeR225, PsychoLeopard, Akt5us, october tuscany, animefreak123, Siriusly Sirius Lily Black, lilypad-7879, Procrastinator-starting2moro, graceypoo, Sango-Inu-Yasha-lover, skyhoofhearted, Kuddls, Stinky Stan, CherryWolf7, Sarah Garner, **and **Shelley DeVri.**


	10. In Which Lily is NOT Possessed

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 10: In Which Lily is **_Not_** Possessed

or

In Which Lily_ is_ Possessed

Where our most confused and beloved heroine was last seen:

I turned and barreled up the stairs. Thank the founders for not trusting boys! This is the one place in the school Potter can't follow me. It's a pity I can't say that about girl's bathrooms anymore.

**ooo…ooo**

I sat up in bed and stretched my arms out over my head.

It's another new and glorious day. New days are always so lovely because they always have the potential to turn into amazing and astounding days that you'll remember forever.

Maybe I'll do something fantastic today, like cure the world of diseases or set the world record for swimming the English Channel or ask James to marry me or invent my own charm or ... what was the about James?

Did _I _think that?

You know ... there really is something wrong with me. I know it's not me who's thinking these things. It just can't be. I'd never think things like that! I'm a normal person. Normal people don't think about marrying James Tristan Potter! They just don't!

I'm going to skip breakfast and go see Madam Jeffries …

"I'm sick." It's true. I'm horribly, horribly deranged in my mind.

"I see, dear. What sort of symptoms do you have?" Madam Jeffries asked kindly. She's very nice, isn't she?

"I keep having these thoughts that aren't mine." I told her matter-of-factly. She looked at me oddly, so I smiled my sweetest, most reassuring smile. I wouldn't want to worry her _too_ much.

"Are these ... thoughts influencing your ... decisions?"

I thought about it. "No, not really. They're more annoying than anything else ... wait ..." I said, my eyes going wide. "You don't think the thoughts are to blame for the invisible strings, do you?" That would be a wonderful explanation. It would make everything I've been doing so much more … explicable.

Madam Jeffries fidgeted, looking over her shoulder like she was frightened or worried. "Can you stay here for just one second, dear?" Why does she always call me 'dear'? Do I look like a 'dear'? I don't think I'm a 'dear' sort of person. Oh well.

"One second," she emphasized, holding up one finger like I was too stupid to understand her without hand motions.

"Alright ..." I said, slowly, "I'll be right here," I gestured at the ground to make sure she got the point.

She nodded. "Just one second," she called over shoulder as she scurried into her office. She's kind of odd, isn't she? I mean, I'm not the brightest kid in the school, but I'm no slouch. Heck ... they didn't make me Head Girl because I can't tell what one second is.

"One one-thousand." Now _that_ was one second. Well gee, I waited one second and Madam Jeffries isn't back yet. Hmm ... I guess that means I should leave.

I know, I know, I should probably stick around, but it's just so tempting. She just made such a big deal out of the one second thing. I grinned to myself as I walked out. Sure I want to know what's wrong with my mind, but now that I think about it Madam Jeffries probably wouldn't be able to help all that much anyway. Sure she's nice, but look at her ... she's the epitome of a rather ditzy blonde. And think about what she did to Potter's leg. I mean, _peroxide_! That had to sting!

Besides, I'm feeling much better now. I haven't thought about Potter in ages.

Except right then, but that doesn't count!

It was simply early morning panic that made me go to the Hospital Wing. Yep, early morning panic, no other reason. Now that it's no longer early, I'm feeling much calmer.

I walked into Transfiguration whistling a little under my breath. I'm really feeling fantastic. Maybe I've been cured of these thoughts about Potter ... Potter and his boyish charm. I wish he were here; I'd like a good morning hug and kiss.

Wait! NOO! I guess I'm not as cured as I thought. Maybe I'll stop by the Hospital Wing again after Transfiguration. Still, this is going to be a good day; I know it.

I started to walk over and take the seat next to Ally when I realized someone had already put their things next to her. I stopped confused.

Oh ... right, Sirius. I'd almost forgotten. This must mean they're 'going public' with their relationship. It's kind of cute ... I guess. If only it weren't so ... odd. If they're happy, though, I'm happy too. But where am I going to sit?

I looked around, trying to locate an empty seat. There was one next to a Slytherin girl, but the look she sent me made me want to run in the opposite direction. I was about to check out the other side of the room when an arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me down.

"Ahh!" I yelped, and grasped desperately at my attacker. I scrabbled a bit, threw my bag at my attacker's head, and ended up in his lap ... with my lips attached to his (but that bit was an accident).

"Potter," I yelled, shoving myself away from him by pushing on his shoulders.

"I thought you were looking for a seat," he said, sounding dazed.

"What?" I asked. Then I noticed the empty seat he'd been trying to pull me into. Ok ... I might have over-reacted a bit ... just a bit.

"Oh," I said, blushing as he gestured at the chair. Getting out of his lap, I sat down in the chair, feeling rather stupid. At least he's better than the Slytherin option (kind of).

"I saved you some breakfast. You shouldn't skip meals," James said, sitting two biscuits down in front of me.

"Thanks," I said, tearing off a chunk of the semi-warm biscuit.

"So where were you?"

"Hospital Wing."

"Are you alright? Do you not feel well? Do you need anything?" He gushed, sounding disturbingly like a fretful mother hen. A very cute and sexy fretful mother hen, but a mother hen nonetheless.

"Don't worry. I'm ... I'll be fine." I can't very well tell him what's wrong with me, seeing as it concerns him. After all, the thoughts only seem to be about him.

I finished off the biscuits and wiped the crumbs onto the floor. I know, I know, not very polite of me, but I doubt lightning will strike me down for scraping crumbs onto the floor just this once instead of into a trash bin.

The time for class to start came and went ... and McGonagall didn't show up. I exchanged a confused look with James. A worried murmur ran through the class. I can imagine what they're thinking, mainly because I'm thinking it too.

What if something has happened, someone's been hurt or even worse ... McGonagall's never late. This can only be bad.

"Don't worry," James whispered, taking my hand from where I'd been gripping the table and wrapping it in his. Gods, I love his hands. The odd 'whole' feeling was back too. It's the biscuits! Ah ha! I knew it was something I ate. I'll just have to avoid the biscuits from now on.

My eyes met his and I was trapped. It was like the invisible strings, but in a more magnety way. My eyes were being held captive by his, but not being drawn toward them. I started when I felt his lips on my hand and I tore my eyes from his to see him gently kissing my hand.

"Lily," he whispered, "Will you ..."

There are so many ways to finish that sentence.

Will you ...

... buy me some french fries?

... go dig a hole for me?

... carry my books?

... kiss me?

... marry me?

... stay by my side for the rest of our lives?

... itch my back?

... help me with this charm essay?

... make out with me in the broom closet next to George the Great tonight?

Ahem ... yes, well, there are a lot of ways to end that sentence and he didn't get the chance to use any of them because at that second the door flew open.

James' words were cut off and I spun around to see Madam Jeffries, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Vittles walking through the door.

What's going on? Why do they look so worried, so serious?

McGonagall walked to the front of the classroom and looked at all of us. This is it; she was going to break whatever horrible news she has to us. I inched to the edge of my chair, both anxious to hear what she had to say and dreading it.

"Class," I froze in anticipatory terror, "Today we will be working with the transfiguration of humans into animals." I let out a breath of air. That wasn't what I'd been expecting.

"Miss Evans." I jumped in my chair as a frail papery hand fell on my shoulder. My nerves are so shot. I mean if Dumbledore saying my name is enough to scare me to death ... well, that's just saying something.

Potter wiggled his fingers and I realized I had them in a tight, death grip.

"Sorry," I whispered, loosening my grip. Then I turned to Dumbledore. "Professor, is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, Miss Evans, there is. We need you to come with us." He looked deadly serious. Vittles was standing behind him like some kind of bodyguard, with his hand on his wand. I glanced at Madam Jeffries who was lingering by the door, nervously wringing her hands.

"Where?" I asked slowly. Now it was James' hand tightening on mine, but I didn't have the heart to tell him to loosen up. Truth be told (and the truth really is over-rated) I was grateful for the added reassurance.

"To the Hospital Wing, I'm afraid."

"W ... why?" I stuttered.

This was freaking me out. Why in the world did they need me to go to the Hospital Wing? Was something wrong? Was someone hurt? What if Ally was hurt? Wait ... Ally's in this class a few desks in front of me. Ok ... I need to calm down.

This is nothing to freak out about ... except it really is.

I could hear McGonagall's voice droning on in the background as Dumbledore gave me a sympathetic glance.

"Madam Jeffries just needs to do a few tests on you."

"Yeah, and then chuck you in St. Mungo's." I heard Vittles mutter under his breath.

What? What did he mean 'chuck me in St. Mungo's?

I looked at James in panic and saw he was staring at Dumbledore with a calculating look on his face. He glanced to me and gave me a warm smile then turned back.

"Why do you need to run tests on Lily?" He asked politely. Good question! I nodded, emphasizing I would also like to know the answer to his question.

"We have reason to believe that Miss Evans might be possessed ..." Dumbledore answered, talking directly to James, as if I wasn't even there.

"Possessed!" I shrieked, cutting him off in horror.

_Possessed_!

What the heck did he mean ... POSSESSED?

And why had he been talking about me like I wasn't even here? Had he forgotten I was here or something? Did he think I couldn't hear him if he was talking to James? Didn't he think I might be _slightly _interested in the fact he thinks I'm possessed?

Me. Lily Evans. Possessed. What a laugh.

"I'm not possessed! Is this some kind of joke? Because it is _NOT_ very funny." I demanded, leaping out of my seat, facing Dumbledore.

James got up as well ... probably because I was still latched onto his hand. I contemplated letting go so I could wave my hands frantically around, but decided that might actually make me look possessed _and_ it was comforting to know James was there by my side.

I stared at Dumbledore, asking wordlessly if he'd lost his marbles. He stared back a sad, serious look in his eyes. Oh gods. He's serious. He honestly thinks I'm possessed. I'm not possessed! Does anyone believe me?

I resisted the urge to look frantically around the classroom. I could hear people whispering and muttering behind me. I could imagine what they were saying ...

"The Head Girl's finally lost it. I knew that Potter would drive her insane."

"Getting taken away by the Headmaster, no less."

"Five Galleons says she's booked into Mungo's within 2 hours."

"She was such a nice girl; it's a real pity."

Yes, isn't it a pity? I felt my face flush and my eyes started watering. I took a step toward Dumbledore and he backed away. I was surprised.

Is he ... afraid of me?

Vittles elbowed past Dumbledore, standing in front of him and pulling out his wand ... like an actual bodyguard. Guarding him from me? I'm not possessed! I wouldn't ever hurt Professor Dumbledore! What's wrong with these people?

James grabbed my waist and with a fluid tug, pushed me behind him, putting himself between Vittles and me.

"Out of the way, Mr. Potter. I won't hurt her. She just needs to calm down and come with us."

"I most certainly am not calming down!" I bellowed back, trying to edge around James, so I could yell in Vittles ugly face, "You just accused me of being possessed! That is not something to be CALM about!"

James yanked his wand out of his pocket and held it in the guard position in front of him. "She's not possessed," he said slowly, dangerously.

Hallelujah! Someone sane! James doesn't think I'm possessed. Gods, he's the best. I could kiss him!

"This is not some childish feud from which you can protect her, Mr. Potter. Either get out of my way willingly or I'll curse you out of it!"

"James, move," I said, shoving his arm.

I don't want the one person who believes I'm not possessed to get blown off the face of the planet by Vittles. I mean Vittles isn't someone to be trifled with. You can't beat him. I heard a rumor that he once beat Dumbledore (_Dumbledore_!) in a practice duel. I'd never forgive myself if Potter got himself hurt on my account ... again.

Besides ... what's the worst that can happen if I just go with them? They'll throw me into St. Mungo's for the rest of my life. Oh shit!

Sure, I've always wondered if I was crazy, but I never really felt insane. Then again, I'm not sure I know what being insane feels like. Maybe I really am insane and I've just always been insane, so I don't even know what not being insane feels like! No … no, I'm not insane! I'm not!

"I'm not moving. I won't let you hurt her." Gods, he's so sweet, but he's going to get himself killed.

Vittles looked surprised at his answer (along with everyone else in the room). I wonder if anyone's ever stood up to him before. Maybe, but certainly not in all of the time I've been at Hogwarts.

James is kind of like his protégé too. This must bite for both of them.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began, but was cut off by Vittles throwing a disarming spell at James.

There wasn't any warning, just a flick of Vittles' wand, but I could feel the raw power soaring toward James and me as clearly as if Vittles had shouted 'Expelliarmus!'

I shrieked. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I did. I just wasn't expecting it! I'm not a sissy or anything (most of the time).

James on the other hand was prepared, maybe due to all of the time he's spent with Vittles. He whipped his wand up and with a quick slash, conjured a shield that sent Vittles' disarming spell spinning harmlessly into the wall.

The whole room was filled with an unearthly silence as Vittles stared at James in astonishment. I'm having a hard time keeping my jaw from dropping as well.

James just blocked one of Vittles' spells! Vittles! As in, the impossible to defeat/fool/best in anyway even if you are James Potter, Vittles!

There was so much power behind that spell, but James blocked like it was nothing. The only way he could do that is if he put tons more power into his shield than Vittles used in his spell. That would be a lot of power. A huge elephant sized load of power. Wow. Just wow. Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have him on my side?

"I have another suggestion, professor," he said, a tad bit mockingly, but, heck, he does have a right to gloat. I'd gloat if I could deflect Vittles' spells (which I can't, but hypothetically speaking). "How about I escort Miss Evans to the Hospital Wing and remain with her there to ensure she doesn't suffer any ... difficulties?"

He phrased it as a question, but it was obviously a command. I hate it how he's so good at doing that. Suggesting something politely, with smile, when all the while he knows (and you know) you can't refuse.

There was a silence, I don't think anyone was even breathing, then Dumbledore said, "That is acceptable, Mr. Potter. I assure you there will be no difficulties as long as Miss Evans lends us her full cooperation." He's talking like I'm not here again! Why does he keep doing that? It's starting to get annoying.

"I will," I piped in, looking at Dumbledore from behind Potter's arm just to prove that I do actually have ears (contrary to popular belief that I function on a higher level of brainwaves and can just read thoughts and, thus, have no use for petty things like ears … alright, that's not popular belief, but one of my more interesting cough crazy cough fantasies).

"Very well," he said, gesturing for us to head toward the door.

I bent down and picked my bag up from the floor. As I straightened, I looked at Vittles.

He hadn't moved since Potter had blocked his spell. He was just standing there with an odd look in his eye. As I was staring at him, his eyes suddenly hardened and he seemed to shake off the paralysis that had been freezing him. I watched as he brought up his wand.

What's he doing? It almost looks like he's going to curse someone. I shot a look toward where his wand was pointed ... James Potter's back.

James, who was bent over, scooping loose parchment into his bag.

I can't believe it ... Vittles is going to curse James while his back is turned!

That ... that no good, muck raking, inconsiderate, un-sportsmanly, cheating, filthy, backstabbing git!

My eyes whipped back to Vittles and I could see his wand starting to move in the motion of a curse.

"James!" I shouted as a warning. I saw him start to turn, but I could tell he wouldn't be fast enough.

Oh gods, I can't watch. James is going to be hurt!

How can anyone watch the person they like, and might even love, be hurt!

Wait ... what was that? Was that the voices again? Stupid voices! Can't they just leave me alone? I mean, it would be one thing if they were my thoughts, but ... Oh ... My ... Gods ...

They are my thoughts.

That wasn't a voice, was it? It was me.

Without a second thought (obviously because if I'd thought it through I'd never have done it), I jumped in front of James and took the curse myself.

I was right, it hurt ... a lot.

It started as a burning sensation where the curse had hit my chest and spread outwards, running through my veins like fire.

I've never been in so much pain in my entire life (except when I had to sit through my sister's engagement party ... heck, I'd thought the wedding was going to be bad, but it was a piece of cake compared to that party. I still have nightmares about it).

This is one nasty curse ... I mean, who designs curses to be this painful? Who in their right mind comes up with things like this? Well whoever he (or she, but for the sake of argument I will refer to the spell's maker as a he) is, he's one sick chap.

I gasped in pain as the blinding light that had flashed in my eyes when the spell hit, faded.

I felt my knees buckle under me and I hit the floor, hard.

Ouch! Gods cursed floor!

At least it's not rough, though. Stone sucks, but rough stone ... I don't even want to think about it. The Transfiguration room does have very nice floors in that respect.

In the distance, beyond the pain that had become the focus of my world, I heard someone yelling (I think I heard my name too, but I'm not positive, they could have been saying chilly or hilly or Billy or silly or Millie or … well you get the idea) and I saw flashes of light, but I didn't feel any additional pain (which was a good thing because I was already feeling quite enough).

Finally the world went mercifully black.

**ooo…ooo**

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. It's a bit of a cliffy, I know, but you must admit it does make things more interesting. If you haven't been attacked by your not quite boyfriend's mentor who just had some sort of a mental breakdown, I'd love a review!

**Daystar** – I'm sure we could try. I don't know if we'd succeed. Besides, I'd feel kind of bad if we turned in the same thing twice. Now if we added a bunch to it and … finished it, then we'd have to guilt what so ever. So … WRITE me a LETTER, you big slacker.

**HauntedAngel **– Yes, a little Sirius-ness. I hope James and Lily will keep you diverted until he pops back up.

**Deefa** – My titles are a bit crazy, but they do have a reason. I was absolutely in love with the enchanted forest chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede when I was younger, who uses the 'In which' titles, and since she's awesome and I want to be awesome I figured I'd give them a whirl. I think they're quite fun.

**Procrastinator-starting2moro** – Wow. I'm kind of pitiful. I just read your review and it cracked me up. "little things please little minds." That's great. You realize, of course, that I'm the one who's supposed to make you laugh, not the other way around?

**J.E.A.R.K.Potter** – Lily thanks you for your advice, but reminds you that she is an excellent runner and hider and won't be letting a little thing like fate get in her way.

**Shattered Serenity** – The gremlins have certainly made their appearance. No worries though, Skittles won't be fired (unless the rabid candy corn worshipers take over my lap top). I would keep an eye on that microwave if I were you, sounds dangerous.

**TajM**- I know what you mean. I always thought it was a bit too much for James' middle name to be Harold. I mean then Harry would be like entirely named after his dad. I think Lily or some dead family member or whatnot should get a little stake on ol' Harry.

Thanks and Hugs to: **Duck-a-roo, genuinescence, Siriusly Sirius Lily Black, graceypoo, famousindafuture, devOtion, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, Silver Weasley, missprongs07, skyhoofhearted, drumer girl, GoddessoftheMaaN, Heiress-To-The-Dark-Throne, hawaiiangirl, dsf asdfl, PsychoLeopard, vegitarians ROCK, siriusforeva, October Tuscany, eluding-you, kuddls, Kiyda, FrEgOrGeLuVeR225, sodafizzz19, Anonfornow, hplovesme, Wrinkles the Troll, Sirael, Brighton Baby, taniita, Mischief16, suckerforlove, michaeljnluver, **and **nanirain**.


	11. In Which Lily is Unconscious

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 11: In Which Lily is Unconscious

or

In Which Lily Can't Move … Anything (except her lungs, and thank Merlin those work!)

Finally the world went mercifully black.

**ooo...ooo**

Well ... I'm awake. Or at least, I'm not unconscious.

Yep, I'm most definitely conscious. I just haven't opened my eyes yet or made any outward signs of my new-found state of mind. I suppose it's because I'd rather not find out if I'm in St. Mungo's or not. That would be depressing. But, then again, there are many things in life that are depressing. Still, that would be extremely depressing, more so than many other things.

I've decided that since I'm still pretending to be unconscious I'm going to try to remember what happened after I dove in front of that spell. I vaguely recall collapsing to the floor (which, I believe, was rather hard, but smooth. The Transfiguration room has such nice floors), but after that everything gets a little fuzzy. I swear, and I know this will sound insane, but I'm pretty sure I saw Vittles get knocked off of his feet and thrown into a wall.

Yeah, I know it sounds insane. I suspect that might have been a hallucination. I wouldn't put it past the clearly sick chap who came up with the curse I took to have added a bit of hallucination into the intense pain, burning, and blinding light. But why would I hallucinate that? It really doesn't make much sense. Who would hallucinate about Vittles? Stupid, sick, foul chap.

I've always been of the opinion that one nasty thing per curse is quite enough; unfortunately no one else seems to agree with me. I bet the wizarding world would be a much happier (and less hazardous place) if curses were limited like that. But no one ever listens to me, do they? It's a real pity. Sometimes I do manage to come up with good ideas (I know, I know, that comes as a shock to you).

I breathed in deeply through my nose. I wish I had a better sense of smell. Honestly, how am I supposed to figure out if I'm in St. Mungo's or not by sense of smell alone when mine is clearly underdeveloped. I suppose I could just open my eyes, but that would be so immediate. And if I am in St. Mungo's, I would probably start screaming bloody murder and then they'd just think I'm even more insane (when I'm really not insane at all … I'm just normal insane). Besides I do like to have advance warning before bad news (not that I usually get it, but I do like it).

A tremor of shock ran up my arm as a hand picked up my own and entwined our fingers. Who would be holding my hand? I didn't even hear anyone come over by the bed. Who is this?

"Hey, Lils."

It's James! If he's here everything must be alright! I guess I'll open my eyes now and then he can give me a 'I'm glad you're awake' kiss and a 'thank you for taking that curse for me' kiss (I actually deserve several kisses for that) and ... oh, bad thoughts. Stop right now! Stupid bad thoughts.

So I tried opening my eyes.

My eyelids are malfunctioning! They don't work! Oh dear gods!

You don't think that this is a serious sort of problem do you? I'm sure this is the sort of thing that can be fixed.

I tried my mouth. Also not working.

At least I can breathe through my nose (thank Merlin I don't have a cold) and my lungs appear to be working.

"Here again, James?"

AHH! Who's that? I don't like not being able to see and we've already established the ineptness of my sense of smell.

Let me think ... the voice sounded old and smart ... Do I know anyone who's old and smart? Wait ... Dumbledore! Obviously. Geez, I can be really stupid sometimes.

Wait ... this means my ears work too! Awesome!

Hold on ... if I'm right and the other voice is Dumbledore, why did he call Potter, 'James?' Normally Dumbledore refers to students as 'Mr. Potter' or 'Miss Evans' and so on. I wonder what's going on.

Hey, if it is Dumbledore it's dollars to donuts that I'm not at St. Mungo's, just in the Hospital Wing. Score!

"Yes, sir."

James is being nice and polite. He's such a good boy when he tries (which isn't all that often and never around me (when I'm awake)).

"Really, James, how many times must I insist that you call me Albus."

What? Well, now we can definitely establish that the voice is Dumbledore, but apparently he's lost a few screws. Or as a wise woman once said, "He's a few egg rolls short of a Chinese buffet." Why in the world would he want James calling him 'Albus' ... unless I've been unconscious for years and James is really a 25 year old, world-renowned auror.

NO!

I can't have been unconscious that long! Think of all the schooling I'd have missed. I would have blown my chance at becoming a healer. It's impossible. Simply impossible.

"Sorry ... Albus. I'm afraid calling you by your first name is going to take some getting used to," (no kidding), "I'm sure it'll become easier once I've left Hogwarts and you're no longer my Headmaster."

YES!

I was right, there was no possible way I'd been unconscious for 7 years. I wasn't worried in the least. Really, I wasn't.

"Yes, you're right, of course."

Of course? Ok ... there's nothing 'of course' about James being right. That's like a freak occurrence that happens once every 7 lunar cycles. Alright ... he's occasionally right, but still there's nothing 'of course' about it.

I know Dumbledore knows that. He took me aside at the beginning of the year and informed me that if James gave me any problems or wouldn't do his Head Boy work, I was to come to him. Heck, Dumbledore even apologized that the basis for the Head Boyship is (as it has pretty much always has been) on grade standings and James (by some freak of nature) _is_ top of our class.

Then again ... he hasn't given me any problem with his Head work and he must occasionally be right, he is top of the class after all. You don't think he's one of those closet studiers, do you? Oh my gods, I bet that's it. He probably gets up at 3 a.m., hides under his covers, and studies. Alright ... it's a little implausible, but it would sure explain his grades.

There was a rather long silence made especially uncomfortable by the fact I couldn't do anything to end it. I hate uncomfortable silences.

"Is your class work suffering James? You spend even more time here than I do."

HAHA! That's a good one. The great James Potter doesn't do class work. I still don't get it ... how can he never do class work and still have me beat for top of the class? Oh, right ... I'm betting it has something to do with a class that starts with a "trans" and ends in a "figuration". I really don't like that class, but it's such an important branch of magic.

I think I can conclude we are in fact at Hogwarts now, which is exceedingly excellent. I really didn't want to be in St. Mungo's.

James gave a breathy short laugh. "I never do class work anyway."

See? I was right. I know him so well.

"Is that so? And you've still become a formidable wizard. (?)"

Was that a question or a fact, I couldn't tell? Well it must be a question, but why would Dumbledore even ask it? He should know the answer ... no, Potter is not a formidable wizard.

"I believe in practical application more than book work."

Whoa, hold the horses, James' statement makes it seem like Dumbledore was stating a fact. Hey, maybe they're both a few marbles short (or as a wise woman once said, "A few sandwiches short of a picnic.") and we're all in St. Mungo's together. That's an excellent explanation.

Wait ... NO, I don't want to be in St. Mungo's. We must be at Hogwarts and ... and ... they've just gone temporarily insane. Yes, temporarily insane. That happens to the most decent of people.

"You know, James, when you did so amazingly well on your O.W.L.s, all of your teachers assured me it was last minute cramming, luck, and probably a good bit of cheating that placed you first in the class."

Ouch! I mean, can you say harsh? Wow, I'm actually feeling bad for James. While a no-good person he may be, he doesn't cheat on his work (mainly because he doesn't do it) and I doubt he'd cheat on a test. In fact, I'd give you a very good wager he's never cheated on a test in his life. For all his big-headed, egotistical nature, he does like to do his own work and, thus, be able to rub it in my face how wonderful _he_ is (not the person he would hypothetically be cheating off of).

"Did they?" James said, sounding so painfully disinterested that I could tell Dumbledore's words must have stung.

Poor baby. He needs a hug ... not from me, of course, but from ... oh, alright, I'd give him a hug if my arms were working.

"Sometimes even educators can be blind to raw talent."

What? Now I'm confused (no surprises there). Did Dumbledore just say take back what he said? Why else would he talk about raw talent? Still confused ... oh well, confusion seems to be my perpetual state of mind.

"Raw indeed!" James said, and I could hear his grin, feel it through my fingers.

How odd is that? James has got to be one of the only people on earth (or anywhere else for that matter) who can let you feel a smile. His smiles are just so wonderful and contagious. If I could move my lips, I would smile.

"No," (What, now he doesn't have raw talent?), "No longer raw." (Oh, that makes more sense. We all know James has raw power, but I don't know if I'd say it was no longer raw.)

"You've honed your talent, James. You most certainly proved that when you took down Vincent so effectively. I've never seen wand work that fluid, backed with so much power in anyone your age or any age, for that matter."

Vincent? Who in the world is Vincent? And why does Dumbledore seem impressed James "took him down". Oh gods, Vincent isn't that little Hufflepuff 2nd year, is he? James wouldn't have done that! James has never (even in his worst days) played evil pranks (harmless ones, yes) on kids who are more than 3 years under us.

"Yeah, well, Vittles got what was coming to him, didn't he!"

Vittles! Vittles' first name is Vincent. Wow, that's kind of disturbing. But wait ... that would mean James "took down" Vittles! That's impossible.

Oh Merlin, I wasn't hallucinating, was I? James really did knock Vittles off his feet and into the wall. But how ... how is that possible? Vittles is really good. How could James beat him? James would have to ... to be better than really good.

"I can't believe that sorry little ..." I could feel James' hand tightening in anger. James took a shuddering breath and let it out. "He's always been the teacher I was closest to, the one I would go to if I needed something, and he's betrayed my trust! He's … he's no longer someone I can look up to …"

"Are you upset I didn't fire him?"

They didn't fire him! Good gods, he was attempting to attack a student! Wait, he did attack a student! ME!

"No, no ... he doesn't deserve to lose his job, it's just ... it was low of him to aim at my back. If Lily hadn't ..." James trailed off sounding rather choked with emotion.

"Yes, Miss Evans is very brave. For those she loves, she will do anything."

Wow, that's so sweet. If my tear ducts were working, I would let a tear or two leak out. I will do anything for the people I love, that's probably why the hat put me in Gryffindor, lord knows it rather wanted to put me in Ravenclaw (although if my aptitude in Transfiguration is any indication I'm not all that clever anyway).

Yep, for those I love ... wait! I don't love Potter! No! No! No! How could Dumbledore even imply that!

"She doesn't love me," (too right, I'm glad Potter knows that), "She probably just figured she was returning a favor."

That's a lovely excuse! I should have come up with that. I was returning a favor. Wow, that sounds excellent. I'm going to have to steal that, I hope James doesn't mind too much.

"You should go back to your dorm tonight, James. Sleeping in chairs is hard on the body," Dumbledore said, after another awkward silence (James has been sleeping by my side every night!), "You look exhausted. A good nights sleep will do you wonders, not to mention there is the Quidditch match to think of. I expect another spectacular catch tomorrow."

"Now, now Prof ... Albus, teachers aren't supposed to pick favorites in Quidditch."

True, but Dumbledore was in Gryffindor, so he's bound to favor it a bit more.

"I didn't say who would be making the spectacular catch, did I, James?" There was a quick pause. "I would of course prefer a certain outcome ..."

"Alright, I'll sleep in my dorm tonight ... and I'll win tomorrow, so I hope that fits with your preferred outcome."

Very cocky, very typically James.

"I'm sure it wouldn't disagree over much."

James was smiling again, being able to feel him smile is really odd. I'm going to have to try it again sometime. I wonder if it would work if I were just touching his arm and not holding his hand?

"I will see you soon, James."

I heard the sound of scraping, like someone standing up from a chair.

"Yes, you too Prof ... Albus."

I heard a rustle of cloth and then a door close quietly.

So now I'm guessing I'm alone with James. Unless there are other invisible (a.k.a. silent) people running about. James squeezed my hand gently and I felt his lips brush against it. My whole arm felt like it was being stuck with pins. Maybe that means I'll be able to move it soon (it has nothing to do with James kissing me, I'm sure).

"I wish you would wake up, Lily. I want to see your beautiful eyes again. I want you to yell at me and insult me and maybe talk to me, not that you do that much, but I ... I ... I miss you so much. Please get well, Lily. This is all my fault and I ... I ... it hurts ..." he trailed off, his voice plaintive.

Is he hurt? What did he mean 'it hurts'? He's alright, he has to be alright!

"I feel like it's eating a hole in my heart, you getting hurt for my sake. Oh gods ..." He broke off.

Thank Merlin, he's not hurt (physically). He sounds really pitiful, though. At least I know how he feels. I'm assuming it's kind of the same thing I was feeling after the giant sunflower incident. But he wasn't unconscious (for too long), so I didn't get to do the whole mushy guilty thing.

"I'll see you soon. I'll stop in before the match and I'll come by right after and I'll slip out during the victory party and I'll stop by before I go to bed and ... well, I'll just come see you."

I felt a gentle brush of lips on my forehead and I suddenly couldn't wait for the morning to come, so he'd come to see me before the match. He set my hand down by my side and I felt instantly cold. I wish he'd hold my hand again. His hands are so wonderful. A soft scrape along the floor indicated he had stood.

"I ... I ... never mind," his voice was soft, then I heard a rustle of cloth and the click of a door opening and closing.

I was alone.

**ooo...ooo**

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry it took me so long to get up. If you're in the reviewing zone (and are not in a freakish unconscious state) feel free to review. Also, sorry I wasn't as responsive to reviews as usual, I'm in a bit of a time crunch right now, but I'll try to do better next time.

**Daystar** - Well even if you're not a slacker, I am.

**Ithliden** – Don't bother re-reading. It's not Vittles first year; I'm just not following canon. Mind you, Ms. Rowling can't seem to make up her mind about what's canon either seeing as Quirrell was supposedly a teacher for several years before he kicked it.

**Reality Bites** – Vittles didn't use an unforgivable, Whatever else he is, he is one of the good guys and they just don't do that. Plus there are plenty of evil curses out there that aren't unforgivable.

Thanks and hugs to: **taniita, famousindafuture, genuinescence, Wrinkles the Troll, suckerforlove, iris2489, ElizabethBloom, michaeljnluver, skyhoofhearted, unlikelytobearit, Artemisa27, FrEgOrGeLuVeR225, JillZee, Silver Weasley, Brighton Baby, drumer girl, HauntedAngel, Mahi, siriusforeva, GoddessoftheMaaN, Sirael, Heiress-to-the-Dark-Throne, Evercare, Goldilocks31890, cUTeLuChIa-PiNkpEaRl-mErMaId, Sango-Inu-Yasha-lover, TajM, Mischief16, Procrastinator-starting2moro, JeminaDOTM5, J.E.A.R.K.Potter, PsychoLeopard, sodafizzz19, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, SuperSpy, Siriusly.Mad.for.Sweets, CarbonMonoxide, Lightstorm, graceypoo, M, ThePhantomRedRose, mOOnshine, Hurleygurl, Daisy Pixie, vegetarians will rule, Boogie, October Tuscany, Duck-a-roo, hawaiiangirl, Miss Mady, ElvislivesAgain, Deefa, Trapped Rabbit, spoons are for marmalade skies, nanirain, Neha Singh, **and **Saraaaaahhh.**


	12. In Which Lily Eavesdrops

It's not mine; it's J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 12: In Which Lily Eavesdrops

or

In Which Lily's Eyelids Once Again Function

Where our rather comatous heroine was last (and due to the comatous issue, still is):

I was alone.

**ooo...ooo**

For a while, all I was aware of was darkness and silence. It was quite boring and rather made me want to scream ... if only my mouth worked. And even if it did, I bet my vocal cords wouldn't work just to vex me.

A crash sounded, reverberating through the room.

My eyes flew open in surprise at the sound (which was clearly not silence).

Wait ... my eyes opened!

Hallelujah! My eyelids are fixed!

I tried to sit up and to my amazement, I found that I was able to do that as well.

I'm fixed!

I'd rather expected Madam Jeffries to botch it like she did with James' leg. Honestly ... peroxide!

I pulled the covers off of my legs and swung them over the side of the bed. Bracing myself, I stood up.

Nothing happened ...

I didn't fall over.

The world didn't end.

James Potter didn't come walking through the curtains surrounding my bed to see me as I realized that this thing they've got me dressed in most certainly doesn't have a back.

Life must be looking up!

I gathered the robe together behind my back with both hands. This thing is practically the equivalent of walking around in half a bag and your underwear!

And my socks ... you can't forget my socks!

I'm feeling very exposed right now.

I peeked out of the curtains and saw that half of the hospital wing was partitioned off and empty. I suppose they're isolating the potentially possessed girl (and I'm not possessed).

Still this is excellent for me. I'll just slip out, go to my dorm, find some decent PJs, and come back. If anyone asks I'll say James brought them to me.

Wait, boys can't go into the girl's dorms. Oh, who cares, this is James Potter; even the teachers acknowledge he can get to anywhere in Hogwarts any time he wants. McGonagall even asked him once to show her the fastest way to the Dungeons when they discovered Jeffery Bates after all of those weeks.

As I was heading to the side door that was on this side of the partition, I heard a murmur of voices from the other side. I was curious (big surprise). Of course, I wanted to know who was talking and what they were talking about, so I snuck over to the edge of the partition and pushed it away from the wall a bit.

Peeking through I saw Madam Jeffries, Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Vittles clustered around a table. Odd, it's the same group that came for me in Transfiguration.

"All my tests have come back negative, Albus," Madam Jeffries said, "I can't hold her once she wakes up. There's no proof at all that she's being possessed."

Ah Ha! I told them! In their sorry faces! Me, possessed? I think not.

"Then why would she come to you and tell you she was hearing voices that may be controlling her actions?"

Holy cannolis, is that what caused this? I knew I shouldn't have gone to the Hospital Wing. Besides, I ... well, I'd rather not think about the voices now. Besides, I was suffering from temporary insanity, not being possessed.

"I questioned Mr. Potter concerning her recent behavior and he was most reluctant to comment on the matter," McGonagall said (at least she hasn't switched to James, I don't think I could deal with that), "He kept dodging my questions and giving artful answers that weren't really answers at all." She threw her hands up in exasperation with a sigh.

Clearly she's as used to Potter and his annoying answers as I am. That man will not give you a straight answer to anything if he can help it. I suppose it comes from being raised to watch his words and not offend any other pureblood families.

"Perhaps he doesn't want to believe she's possessed," Vittles commented dryly. Sorry, no-good, back stabbing cheater.

"What do you mean, Vincent?" McGonagall asked.

Yes, what does he mean? Not that it matters since I'm not possessed, so really this whole conversation is pointless, but still, what does he mean?

"Well, if she's possessed, it might not be her own thoughts and actions that caused her to become involved with him. I probably spend more time with Mr. Potter than any other teacher," there was a wry chuckle from everyone in the group, "And I can say with reasonable authority that the pair became involved a scant 5 days ago."

We are not involved! I wish he would get that straight. Just because there are some crazy invisible magnets in James' lips doesn't mean we're involved. No one seems to get that.

"So he might have reason to believe her finally acquiescing to him was not typical behavior?" Madam Jeffries asked.

Well if I had acquiesced to him (which I haven't) then it might not be typical behavior, but that doesn't mean I'm possessed. Honestly, these people seem rather hooked on the possessed thing.

"Five days ago Miss Evans would not touch Mr. Potter with a 10 foot long pole."

Dumbledore leaned forward and surveyed Vittles, steepling his fingers. "I think you are being too hasty, Vincent. But, nonetheless, perhaps it would be prudent to question James' friends. He would undoubtedly confide in them if he was worried about Miss Evans."

Excellent idea, no wonder everyone says Dumbledore's the wisest wizard of our time. Then again, just about anyone could have told you that James tells his friends everything.

McGonagall nodded in agreement, "I could arrange that."

"I think it's safe to say that if she was possessed at any time she no longer is," Madam Jeffries said, "I will, of course, keep her here under the pretense of monitoring her reaction to the curse she took for as long as possible."

Why that B … witch! How could she? I hate the Hospital Wing! The least she could do is tell me the truth about why I was being kept.

Mind you if anyone mentioned possessed I'd go berserk ... maybe it's a good idea not to tell me.

"That was a particularly nasty curse, Vincent. Why in the world did you choose that one?" Madam Jeffries asked crossly.

"I lost my temper," Vittles grumbled, looking uncomfortable, "It was the first time in a long time."

"I trust you have your temper under control now," Dumbledore stated.

"Yes, I do. I've already talked with Mr. Potter and he has accepted my apology, albeit with much reluctance."

He accepted his apology! I was lying unconscious in the Hospital Wing because that idiot shot a curse at James' back and he accepted his apology. Reluctance my foot, he should have said, "NO!"

"He understands that holding grudges can only lead to unwanted problems," Dumbledore said, almost as if he was reading my thoughts.

I suppose he's right, but still. Well ... as long as he showed reluctance, I guess it's ok. But he better have shown a whole dump truck load of reluctance.

"He grew up right under my eyes and I didn't even notice," McGonagall said, shaking her head, "He went from that vexing, egotistical, prankster that was the bane of a teacher's existence, to a noble, powerful young wizard that makes you proud to say you've taught him, and I didn't even bother to look."

"None of us did," Dumbledore said, "Except for you Vincent. I had forgotten, but after that meeting where we discussed the O.W.L. results you told me that James might surprise me in the future. I assumed at the time you were referring to a prank of some sort, but ..."

"I was more referring to potential. I honestly did not think he would strive to meet it until after Hogwarts. I thought he'd be the one who would shock everyone at the 10 year reunion as the most changed."

James has changed, hasn't he? I managed to miss it too, just like all of the teachers, but he's grown into a fine man. Very, very fine. Exceedingly fine ... and yummy ... I mean ... ummm ... well, I don't know what I mean.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of troubling thoughts. I shouldn't be eavesdropping on teachers anyway, I'm Head Girl after all.

I still can't believe Vittles tried to attack James. I suppose it was his pride that spurred him to it and he was probably very ... surprised. Still, it wasn't very nice.

I let the partition fall back into place and then padded over to the door. I slipped silently into the hallway, re-gathered my robe behind me, and set off toward the dorm.

After giving the Fat Lady the password - skunk cakes - and receiving a rather disapproving look toward my clothing (or lack there of) (But I'm wearing socks! You can't forget the socks!), I headed up the stairway and into my dorm room.

My roommates were already asleep, curtains drawn, so I quietly made my way to my bed.

OW! Ow! Ouch! Sorry piece of ... sadistic wood! Don't yell!

I bit my tongue.

Stupid bedside table! How long has it been there? Yeah, yeah, since 1st year.

I grabbed my toe and sank down on my bed.

It hurts! I pulled off my sock.

It isn't bleeding, is it?

I quickly moved my foot away from the bed, so I wouldn't stain the comforter if it was, in fact, bleeding. I wiggled all of my toes a bit. They all appear to be moving.

Nothing's broken or in need of amputation, thank Merlin!

I resisted the urge to flop back on my bed and never get up again (but it was a near thing) and stood up. Then I realized I was still in the Hospital Wing get-up with naught on but half a bag, my underwear, and one sock.

Only one sock, for crying out loud! At least it's my Halloween skeleton sock with the sparkly green eyeballs ... very classy.

I blushed in the dark even though I knew no one could see me looking so ridiculous. Gathering the back of my "robe" _cough_ half a sack _cough_, I fished one handed through my trunk.

Santa Clause PJ bottoms.

Phantom of the Opera glow in the dark t-shirt (that kind of freaks me out, I mean ... it glows ... isn't that just freaky?).

Excellent.

I yanked off the "robe" _cough_ dismembered burlap sack _cough_ and pulled them on. Balling the "robe" _cough_ grocery sack _cough_ up, I convinced myself hexing it into oblivion would help no one. So instead I threw it out the half-open window next to my bed. It didn't go very far, though.

Stupid roof.

I reached out and snatched the "robe" _cough_ half-masticated and spit out bag _cough_ and instead shoved it under my bed. Serves it right because Merlin only knows what's under there.

I pulled off my very classy sock and slipped into my lime green, fluffy slippers. Grabbing my bathrobe (which must be the deluxe version of a hospital robe), I headed out the door.

Back to the Hospital Wing for me ... Blah.

As I made my way down the stairs, I stopped in surprise. There are voices coming from the common room. Who in the world would be up at this time of the night?

I inched down the last few steps and poked my head around the door way to see the James and his friends had just come in and were apparently still wide awake (probably plotting something nefarious). James, however, did look exhausted. Dumbledore was right, he needs to get a decent nights sleep. We'll never beat Slytherin if he's not in top form.

"So how are things between you and Lily?" Sirius asked. I leaned farther out of the doorway, holding onto the banister for balance.

What are the chances ... happening on a conversation about me? This should be an excellent opportunity to find out how James talks about me when I'm not around.

James is blushing. Hmm ... is that a good sign or a bad sign? But goodness he's so adorable sometimes. If I weren't eavesdropping on their conversation (and, thus, having to worry about being caught at said activity) I would be sighing like a lovesick schoolgirl right now. Which I'm not! Lovesick, that is … I was merely making a point. What the point was I can't remember, but I have a new point and that is that I am not lovesick. So there.

"Things are going as well as they can, seeing as she's _unconscious_, Padfoot."

Padfoot? I hate those secret Marauder code names. I used to bug Remus about them, but he'd never tell me what they meant. Still ... Prongs has a ring to it (and is undeniably mysterious and sexy). What girl wouldn't want a guy whose nickname is Prongs (unless the girl is me and the guy is James Potter, but still!)?

"Just fine, huh? And what about the happenings before the whole issue of unconsciousness arose. After all, you seem to be spending an ungodly amount of time in the hospital wing now-a-days."

James reddened every more. Interesting. I need a book that explains boy's reactions because even if the blushing is interesting, I have no bloody clue what it means.

"Why such an interest? Usually you don't like to hear me talk about Lily."

He talks about me? And apparently a lot. I'm guessing that means something. Why, oh why, isn't there a book on these things. It could be a good thing. He could gush about the wonders of my mind and the magnificence of my charms work. Oh, who am I kidding? He could gush about my lovely bum and bra size (not that either of those are exactly brilliant, but hey, they could be worse). Or he could be venting about what a horrid individual I am and how he can't stand the sight of me (like I tend to do for him). While I certainly don't approve of such gushing I most confess I heartily support it as compared to the latter. Not that it really matters, I suppose, but it would make me feel better.

"No reason mate, but I couldn't help noticing how cozy you two were before Transfiguration two classes ago."

I blushed from where I was hanging out of the doorway. That incident is going to haunt me for the rest of my life; isn't it? Still, I think it ranks as less embarrassing than the whole Christmas tree of kisses thing. Thank the Crinkle French Fry Saints of the World only Vittles (filthy, worthless individual) saw that!

"What happened before Transfiguration?" Remus asked, looking up from his book.

"Don't tell him!" James shouted at Sirius, and I nodded emphatically in agreement (unfortunately since no one could see me, my input didn't count for much).

"Good ol' Prongsie was making out with Lily dearest on the floor!"

"Sirius!"

I want to knock my head onto something, but that would create noise and even more than I want to knock my head I want not to be discovered. Imagine the mortification. Simply horrifying. It would be like the Christmas tree of kisses incident except worse because Sirius would be here and he would tell Ally and then Ally would bug me about it for the rest of my foreseeable life! Obviously, I can't have that. I'll just knock my head on something later to make up for my lack of being able to do so now.

Sirius seems to be getting too much amusement from this. Mental note: kill Sirius (or at least injure him severely) next time you see him. Oh, fine, just give him a dirty look.

I'm never going to be able to face Remus again, never ever. What must he think of me!

"Way to go, James!" Remus said, smiling broadly.

Why that ... that ... I can't believe him! I should disown him as my friend.

"Thanks, Moony," James said, shaking his head in embarrassment, "I'm just, I'm just ... ah, never mind."

"No, tell us, James. What is it?" Remus said, setting down his book and folding his hands counselor style (It's freakish how good he is at that).

I wonder what James seems so worked up about? I tried to lean further out of the doorway, nearly lost my grip, and decided I'd just have to settle for where I was.

James looked at Sirius who put on an innocent look.

"What?"

"You can't say a word."

Sirius sighed dramatically. "Alright."

I can't say I blame James. Merlin knows I wouldn't want Sirius to comment on a seemingly delicate subject that had me worked up and perhaps a bit embarrassed.

James turned back to Remus. "I'm worried Lily doesn't understand that I'm ... that I'm for real, I guess. What if she thinks we're just messing around? Because I don't think she wanted to kiss me at first and it's not like I'd ever force her, but it seemed as if all I had to do was wish my lips were on hers and then ... they were. And it keeps happening. A few times I think she might have initiated it, but ... but I can't be sure. She's so irresistible; I can't even think around her. I just want to kiss her so much and I want to believe she wants it just as much as I do ..." James broke off, burying his head in his hands.

He thinks I don't want to kiss him?

Hello! Is anyone home? Obviously not.

I mean I'd practically jumped him in the Hospital Wing!

And what about in the secret hallways?

Or the girl's bathroom?

Oh, and how about in the hallway after our trip to the kitchen!

I should tell him my theory about the magnets so he won't have to worry so much about it.

You know, I think I could come to like the magnets given time ... and plenty of kisses.

"Uh, James ..." Sirius said.

"Sirius, I don't want to hear it. You promised not to say anything."

"But ..."

"Sirius!"

Sirius fell silent looking highly annoyed and Remus said, "Well there's one way to be sure she knows how you feel."

"Really," James said, eagerly, "What?"

I hope it involves kisses!

"Tell her."

Both Peter and Remus cracked up at that. I wonder what's so funny. It seems like a perfectly reasonable suggestion to me. It doesn't involve kisses, true, but I'm sure after the telling thing I could easily arrange for a few.

"What's so funny?" James asked indignantly.

Ahh ... someone else who doesn't get the joke. At least I'm not alone. I'm with Potter, which is, in actuality, a fate worse than being alone (unless it involves kisses, then he can stay).

"You'll never tell her," Peter said, sniggering.

"I could! I could ... it's just, how do you go about it? Do you just walk up to her and say, 'Hey gorgeous, I'm madly in love with you, will you go out with me?'"

Madly in love with me ... madly in love with me ... madly in love with me ... James is madly in love with me, Lily ... James Tristan Potter is madly in love with me, Lily Marie Evans ... oh my gods. Oh my gods! AHHHHHHHHHH!

"Yeah, mate, do something like that," Sirius howled, joining Remus and Peter in laughter.

James stood up and huffed, "I'm not staying around here with you ungrateful gits."

He started walking toward the doorway (and by virtue of the fact I was hanging out the doorway, towards me too).

Panicking, I pulled my thoughts back into some semblance of order, jerked myself upright and raced up the stairs two at a time. I leapt through the doorway to the girl's staircase and pressed myself against the wall, trying not to breathe as I heard James' (who's madly in love with me) footsteps stop on the landing. I breathed a sigh of relief as they continued up the boy's staircase and I peeked out, hoping to catch a glimpse of him (and his rather attractive rear end), but what I got wasn't quite what I'd been hoping for (better than his rear end, surely, if only his face did not have eyes (even his dreamy ones)).

I hate incantation-less magic. I mean, who even knows a spell to imitate the sound of footsteps? James was leaning against the door of the boy's staircase, staring straight at me.

"Look, I don't know who you think you are, but it's not nice to spy on people." He held up his wand and it lit without saying a word, revealing my face in the light. Oh rain spotted china sets ... the jig is most definitely up. I'm caught and I've still got my hands in the bucket of red paint.

"Lily? Lily! Is that really you? You're better! You're awake!" He took an eager step toward me, smiling like he'd just received the best news in the world, "Shouldn't you be in the Hospital Wing?"

Then his face froze in a mask of horror as he realized I'd heard his conversation. I don't know what he's so worried about though.

"How much did you hear?" He asked in a monotone sort of voice, after hurridly re-arranging his face into a bored look.

"Enough," I squeaked, after all, I don't want him to take back what he said. I stepped out of the door way and onto the landing with him. He looked me up and down, as if checking me for injury. He smirked at my lime green slippers, but his face fell into an expressionless mask again.

"You can say it, if you want."

"Say what?" He replied, looking at the floor.

"What you said before." Does he really think he can play stupid with me? I know him too well.

"I'd really rather not."

Panic swept my mind. He can't have changed his mind. Not so quickly.

"Why? Didn't you mean it?"

"I'd just rather not have you laugh in my face too."

"I wouldn't laugh in your face."

Nope, I'd probably do something more along the lines of throwing myself at him and screaming "YES!"

James laughed a bit, "You're right, you'd be nice enough to do it behind my back."

Wait ... that's not what I meant.

"I prefer people who laugh in your face and are honest about it."

"You have a point, but things are different with you."

What does he mean different? He still won't look at me. This is getting tedious.

"Why are things different with me?"

"While I value honesty, I would prefer to go on pretending you don't hate me and find my love for you a laugh," James said, his voice filled with something that sounded suspiciously like self-loathing.

You have got to be kidding me. How could I hate him? Where's my cocky, self-assured James? I want him back! Right now!

"I don't hate you, James ... I love you." I whispered, but my words were lost in a huge bang erupting from the common room.

I looked down the stairs in surprise, wondering what in the world could have caused such an explosion (I suppose you really can't wonder too much when the Marauders (even 3/4 of them) are concerned. For them anything could be an explosive). When I looked back to James, I got a start ... he was gone.

Gone ...

**ooo…ooo**

Thanks for reading! Hope you like the new chapter. Confessions of love are so fun, even if they aren't exactly confessions, but more over-hearings. If you're not swamped by homework or other such paltry things a review would be much loved and appreciated.

**Daystar** – The week from hell is over and I'm updating. I swear I'll write you a letter too. Ok, I lie, but I do so with the good intention of making you feel happy. So are you happy? Because if you aren't you should be.

**HauntedAngel** – Your most welcome and there is indeed some Sirius-ness, so it's your lucky day.

**HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle** – Lily couldn't open her eyes because she was in sort of in a hyper-aware unconcious state. It's all really Madame Jeffries fault since it's her healing method that did it. Since Lily had been unconcious so long Madame Jeffries had been giving her a lot of different potions to restore conciousness. Unfortunately the potions didn't quite work when mixed together, but they were able to give Lily awareness of her surroundings.

**Missprongs07** – I feel like that all of the time. Then again ... we can't be quite sure I'm not completely insane.

**Boogie** – Sorry it was so short, but this one is pretty long, so that should make up for it, right?

**Hurleygurl** – I don't have any particular curse in mind, but I do know that the state she was in wasn't exactly due to the curse itself, just the way she was being healed. After all, if James and Dumbledore knew she could hear they wouldn't have been talking about her right next to her.

**Siriusly.Mad.for.Sweets** – I wouldn't stay they think she's crazy now, but they think she was crazy and are worried she might become so again.

**JillZee** – You are right, that could be the case. I've acutally thought about it, but I just don't buy it. I thought it was pretty obvious in the first book that Quirrell had been DADA teacher, but I could be wrong.

**TajM** – Wow, a whole language in blinks, that's so weird. Luckily dearest Lily doesn't have to bother with that. Thank the gods on my part too, I don't think this poor writer could deal with the freakiness of it.

**PsychoLeopard** – Alright, this is just something I've noticed. Dumbledore calls adults by their first names and they call him Albus, so I was just thinking that a good symbolic sort of way to show that Dumbledore now regards James as a fully grown wizard instead of a student would be to have them use first names. It's kind of obscure, but it makes sense.

**Eluding-you** – Of course he was going to say he loved her. He just chickened out. What a wuss.

**Jane** – Alas, James is not King, just grown up. Such a pity.

**Unlikely-to-bear-it **– If your handy dandy magnifying glass didn't help see what I said to PsychoLeopard.

**Withered Quill** – TWUW WUV is the greatest thing ever isn't it? We've no found out James' feelings on the subject, but I believe Lily might need a little more time.

GoddessoftheMaaN – I didn't realize that. And now that I do I find it kind of disturbing.

**x-woman1** – Vittles isn't exactly evil, he just made a really bad mistake. Also you have to consider he was planning on hitting James and the spell would probably have knocked him out for a few hours, but since Lily is a great deal smaller than James it knocked her out for days. She isn't in a coma, she's just unconcious.

Thanks and Hugs to: **FrEgOrGeLuVeR225, skyhoofhearted, famousindafuture, drumer girl, Wrinkles The Troll, genuinescence, Heiress-To-The-Dark-Throne, vegetarians will rule, J.E.A.R.K.Potter, Brighton Baby, SuperSpy, CarbonMonoxide, OnerousOrangutang, leeleigh, Ctimene, EowynSaule, hehe, Trapped Rabbit, xXfiRePhoEnixXx, Sirael, Jana, Lo, taniita, sodafizzz19, JeminaDOTM5, graceypoo, Mischief16, iris2489, Xaris of the Fish, Briee, audreyblaine, check6, Siriusly Sirius Lily Black, Kuddls, angelofmynightmare, MiSs WeStHoFf HeRsElF, siriusforeva, Sango-Inu-Yasha-lover, Seren Lunar Echo, Sugarplum-Farie, Elvislivesagain, Procrastinator-starting2moro, hawaiiangirl, Neha, melodicmoonstar89, AllIWannaDo, LCH8292, gabby, Misha, Stasya, SnakeEyesHannah, GaryLovesPickles, PurplePixies, gldnsunsprite21, **and** misha1989.**


	13. In Which Lily Figures it Out

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 13: In Which Lily Figures it Out

Or

In Which Thirteen Really Does Prove to be Lucky

Where we last abandoned our heroine:

When I looked back to James I got a start ... he was gone.

Gone ...

**ooo…ooo**

He'd left ...

I could barely hear his footsteps racing up the stairs over the racket in the common room … but they were there.

He hadn't heard me.

Suddenly the air in the stairwell seemed to be choking me and the walls were getting closer and closer. I had to get out of here.

I fled, flying down the steps into the common room, past three very surprised looking Marauders, out of the portrait hole, and into the Hospital Wing, where I promptly threw myself down on my bed.

I rolled over and inspected my fluffy slippers. Did he really love me? Did I really love him? I hadn't meant to say that; it just sort of popped out, like grapes when you're trying to spear them with your fork and they keep popping out from under the prongs and ending up in the lap of the unfortunate person sitting across the table from you.

What I'm feeling is clearly not love; I'm just a poor, helpless grape flying into Potter's handsome face.

I mean, let's look at the facts:

Liking to kiss someone isn't the same as loving someone.

Being grateful that someone rescues you from all dangers in Transfiguration isn't love.

Thinking someone's cute when they blush isn't love.

Wanting to run your fingers through someone's hair isn't love.

Enjoying spending time with someone isn't love.

Fantasizing about white picket fences isn't love.

Seeking someone out because they make you laugh isn't love.

Being willing to take a curse for someone isn't love.

Enjoying a feeling of safety and comfort beyond anything imaginable when with someone isn't love (or more specifically when holding their hands, but they're such nice hands).

Wanting to make someone smile isn't love.

Feeling whole when holding someone's hand isn't love (although that could have been something I ate for dinner … I personally suspect the biscuits).

But … but what happens when you put all of those facts together?

Oh no ... it can't be ... I can't be in love with him.

What will Ally say? What will Sirius say? What will my parents say? What will his parents say? Most importantly, what will James say?

I'm in love with James Tristan Potter. Heavens help me!

Are there even any deities out there in the great wide beyond listening to me right now? Well, if you're listening, PLEASE don't abandon me now! (Not to sound picky or anything, but if you deities could perhaps arrange for a very understanding and wise (in the confusing ways of men) goddess, I would be ever so grateful).

You know, this whole love thing could be a wee bit of a problem seeing as I haven't exactly been nice to James in the past (in fact, he seems to think I hate him). We have been working together as Heads this year, though! That really ought to count for something. But still, I just tolerated him; it's not like we were even friends.

Oh … Oh no … Oh no no no no no! I can't believe it. I can't believe it. I refuse to accept it! I REFUSE! (and there's nothing you can do about it!)

Oh, butt monkeys, fine, fine, I accept it. (I still can't believe it, though).

I've been fooling myself all year. All year. As in the whole Year, as in since September, as in since the Hogwarts Express, I've been lying to myself! How pitiful is that? All that time I said I "tolerated" him, I was making up excuses to spend time with him, wasn't I?

All those times I made him patrol with me when I didn't need the help and knew he had a test to study for (as if he studies, but he might have needed the time for his closet studying and it would only have been fair to return the favor since when I had lots of work he always let me off patrolling). Or what about going to patrol with him to "keep him in line" when it wasn't even my turn!

How pitiful is it when you lie to yourself? I'm pitiful! Pitiful!

If the government program that's reading my thoughts is still listening it's probably having a right good laugh right now. Ha Ha Ha (FYI, I was being sarcastic). Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I'll have my revenge one day. I'll find you in your secret government lair and hex all of your underwear onto the tops of your heads and with a lovely permanent stick charm I'll affix your darling undergarments to your hideous bald spots. So beat that!

I rolled over, buried my head in my pillow, and screamed. That actually made me feel a little better. Screaming can definitely help with problems such as this … it just can't help much.

James and I need relationship counseling and we don't even have a relationship! What's going to happen if we do get into a relationship! We'll be in counseling every day. We'll live in counseling!

But I now have an even bigger problem to deal with before I need to worry about the cost of live in counseling:

How in the world am I going to work up the courage to tell James how I feel? He's right! How do you go about telling someone you love them and want to date them and marry them and have kids with them and buy a house with a white picket fence with them … well, maybe I'll leave out the bit about the marrying … and the kids … and the house with a white picket fence (I wouldn't want to scare him off just yet)?

How do you do it?

Should I just walk up to him and say, "Hey, handsome, I'm madly in love with you. Will you go out with me?"

Wow, that sounds pretty good. In fact, that sounds really good. I'm such a genius.

But when would I do it? He's probably kind of … gee, I don't know … angry or he could be hurt or he could be sulky or unhappy or … well, let's just say he probably won't be coming to visit me any time soon.

Wait! Today's Friday! And if today's Friday that means tomorrow is Saturday! I know that might seem obvious (and pointless), but what you fail to see is that since tomorrow is Saturday, tomorrow is the day of Gryffindor's big Quidditch match against the Slytherins!

So I could go the match and tell him how I feel (using that ultra awesome line I came up with/borrowed from James)!

It could be really romantic, confessing love on a Quidditch pitch. Then again, a moon lit picnic would be better and in all honesty the confessing will probably happen by the locker rooms and not on the pitch at all, but still love is just a romantic wonderful bliss inducing feeling.

If only he would stop thinking that I hate him since, well … I don't! (Quite the opposite really.)

**ooo…ooo**

"You don't understand! I _have_ to go! This is a matter of _Life_ and _Death_!" I cried, debating whether falling to my knees and clutching at my heart would be too dramatic. I'm already on my tenth desperate plea to go to the Quidditch match. You'd think she'd have given in by now.

Madam Jeffries really doesn't understand. If I don't go to this Quidditch match, I'll lose the perfect opportunity to tell James how I feel and if I don't do it today, as planned, I'll probably put off making another plan for … forever! And if I put off making another plan forever, I'll die old and alone in a dusty cookie cutter house packed with collectable figurines in front of the TV. tuned into soap operas and no one will find my body until it's decomposed past the state of being even recognizable and even then the only reason the neighbors will come over is that an odd smell seems to be emanating from the house and it will affect their enjoyment of their patio!

I don't want to die like that!

This really is Life and Death!

"Lily, dear, that spell severely injured you. I can't just let you leave."

She could just come out and admit she doesn't want me to flip out and go all possessed and psycho on the people at the Quidditch match. Which I wouldn't since I'm not bloody possessed anyway!

"Please!" I pleaded, putting on my best, kicked puppy dog look. No one can refuse that! No one! She has to say yes; eleven is an excellent number. It clearly shows I'm eager, but not that I'm obsessed (which I am, but it would be best if she didn't know that).

"I'm afraid the answer's no. Now please take your potion," she said, pushing a glass of the vile 'potion' (I suspect it's really toxic sludge that's been titrated into dirty dish water from the Slytherin table) toward me.

It's time to take desperate measures. It is time for … the Truth.

_shudder_ - The Truth.

It's a big thing. I never thought I'd have to sink this low. I never thought I'd reach this low point at the bottom of the bottomless pit, but I am truly, utterly, and most sincerely desperate.

I don't want to die alone; I …. I want to die with James … or at the very least with him holding my hand (I would, of course, love for him to go on living for years after me, but I except he would be miserable because we are soul mates (Doesn't that sound so wonderful! Soul mates. Lily and James … soul mates. AHHH! It sounds so good. I can't even contain my excitement. If I weren't trying to make a good impression on Madam Jeffries, I would start jumping on the bed from pure excitement right now!) and when your soul mate dies … well I'm just going to assume it's not very pleasant. I know I wouldn't want to live without him.) and I want to marry him and have kids with him (well maybe a kid, kids sound rather hard to manage and what if they're all like him? Good gods, I'd go to my grave prematurely for lack of sanity).

"I have to go because I have an important message for the Head Boy." My twelfth request.

Alright, alright, it's not quite the truth, but it's frighteningly close and the whole truth would be such a big step for me. I'm not ready yet! I can't do big steps!

Madam Jeffries crossed her arms. "I'll consider it," she said, "If you drink your potion."

I eyed the foul concoction. Is love worth drinking _that_?

I thought about it … thought some more … Oh, who am I kidding, what's there to think about? … Of course NOT!

Of course, by the time I reached that conclusion I'd already chugged the half the potion and was trying not to gag.

My stupid misbehaving hand! I didn't tell it to pick up that glass, much less drink the potion! It must be the voices again.

Wait … those voices aren't really voices … they're me, my subconscious … I figured that out, didn't I? Yes, I did, in Transfiguration right before I dove in front of that curse.

So … I told my hand to pick up the potion without realizing it because … I do love James and would drink this disgusting potion every god's forsaken day for the rest of my life if I spent those days by his side.

I never realized I was so into self-delusion (and wow that was really sappy. I'm so lucky that only those secret government agents are listening to my thoughts).

Ok, I'm making a new rule to live by.

**Rule Number 39**:

I, Lily Marie Evans, am no longer allowed to be into self-delusion (it's just bad).

I threw back the rest of the potion and swallowed it. Completely nasty, but well worth it.

"Thank you," Madam Jeffries said, picking up the glass and making to leave.

"Wait!" I cried, "What about the Quidditch match?"

"I've considered it and the answer is no."

Oh gods! No! No! I have to go!

"I love him!" I yelled at her retreating back.

Merlin, that felt brilliant to yell out loud.

"I have to tell him! You have to let me go before I lose my courage! That's the reason I've been acting odd!" I cried, the pitch of my voice increasing exponentially with each word, "I didn't know what was happening and I was scared, but I know now. I love him! I want to date him and marry him and have children with him and grow old with him and die with him and if I don't tell him right now I'm going to start doubting it and then I'll lose this once in a life time chance to be helplessly, recklessly, blissfully happy for the rest of my life!"

I stopped, my breath coming in short hitches, nearly in tears. That was my thirteenth plea. Ah, piece of sh … shoelaces, why couldn't I have asked one more time or one less! Thirteen is unlucky! She'll never say yes now!

Oh merciful gods of the number thirteen, please, please, I need her to say yes! And I apologize most profusely for calling your sacred and all-knowing number unlucky, it is, of course, the luckiest number ever in existence.

Madam Jeffries stood there, staring at me for a good minute in complete shock. This, of course, gave me ample time to turn bright Gryffindor red and wonder at my sanity. I've probably just proved in Madam Jeffries' eyes that I am possessed (which I'm not!). Sure I got a little worked up, but I'm in love, so it's understandable! You would get worked up, too, if you'd just realized you were in love!

"You'll have to be back here in three hours exactly," she said smartly, moving toward my clothes, which were folded over a chair, and bringing them to me. "And please try not to let any of the professors see you."

Praise be to the gods of the number thirteen! I love you to pieces! I'll repay you somehow. I will. I'll … I'll stop using the number twelve on my homework questions and use 13 twice in a row instead! I love thirteen so much! Best number in existence, no competition!

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I yelled, throwing my arms around her neck, nearly in tears, to give her a tight hug. "I won't let anyone see me!"

She smiled, "I was young and in love once myself. You should enjoy it while you can." I had already torn off my PJs and was shoving my jeans on. Ally had brought them for me since I'd forgotten to pick up regular clothes on my trip to the dorm (which no one should technically know about anyway). It's lucky she did too since the clothes I'd been wearing when I'd blocked the curse were rather beyond repair. I yanked the t-shirt over my head and smiled back at Madam Jeffries.

"I'm going to have the rest of my life to enjoy it." I told her. And it's going to be wonderful. I just know it. This isn't a crush or lust or early relationship bliss … this is true love in it's purest form. What else could it be? What else is so easily mistaken for hate? I hated him with such passion it was really love. How odd is that? Well, anyway, everyone knows true love lasts forever … plus two days, so I'll have a very long time to enjoy my newly discovered feelings.

I walked out of the hospital wing and saw the halls were already empty … that means the match has already started! I ran down the staircase into the entry way and burst out of the doors into the sunshine. I could barely make out the players flying over the pitch since I was so far away, but one fleck of red and gold caught my eye and an irrepressible grin emerged on my lips.

This love thing is awesome … this is the best I've felt in days … months … years … ever. After I tell him though, he'll kiss me, right? Now that … that will blow the happiness meter right out of this galaxy.

I hurried toward the pitch. After reaching it, I tried to decide what to do.

Should I wait for James in the locker room or should I watch from the stands and come down to the locker room after the match? Well, if I wait in the locker room no one will see me, but then I won't be able to watch the delectably sexy man I love play Quidditch.

Hmm … yeah, just in case you're wondering, I'm already halfway up the stairs to the student standing area. Go figure. I mean, _me_, not watch James play Quidditch … not likely.

Once at the top, I shouldered past some rather raucous Gryffindor first years and secured a spot right at the front of the stand.

"Slytherin scores!" The announcer shouted using that long announcer-ish (very descriptive I know, but I'm rather preoccupied right now trying to express my support for Gryffindor by booing at the top of my lungs) voice.

I looked up and saw James flying high above the game, eyes scanning for that little fleck of gold that would win the game. He looks so perfect in his Quidditch uniform. He looks like he could do anything; he looks like he's in charge; he looks like nothing will ever stop him. And nothing ever has, he has never once (not even that time he was playing with a cold) not caught the snitch.

My eyes strayed to Jennifer Bell as she whipped around a Slytherin chaser and scored.

"10 points to Gryffindor!"

I joined the deafening cheers. Then watched in horror as a bludger bat connected with Jennifer's knee. Gods, I'd forgotten why I hate Slytherin matches so much.

They're filthy cheaters! I hate cheaters! All cheaters should be found, tarred, feathered, and forced to dance the chicken dance on their table in the Great Hall during dinner!

Unfortunately cheaters generally get off scotch free.

My eyes immediately sought James, to assure myself he was fine. He looked fine … very very fine … he looked exceedingly, wonderfully fine … yeah … he also looked uninjured. I need to stop getting distracted by his fineness.

He gestured for a time out and flew over to Jennifer, who was struggling to stay in the air and clutch pitifully at her knee at the same time. He helped her onto his broom being very gentlemanly.

Have I mentioned that I don't really like Jennifer? She's horrendously ugly and dumb as a doornail – she isn't even good at Quidditch!

Ok … ok … I might be a wee bit jealous that James has his arms wrapped around her, but only a wee bit … honestly!

Do you think it's too much to wish she'd just fall off of his broom? I mean, they're only 20 feet from the ground, that wouldn't hurt … much.

Oh gods. I'm jealous! Am I so insecure about my love that I must resort to being jealous?

YES! Yes, I am! I would be much less insecure if he actually knew I like/love him, but he doesn't (and even then, knowing me, I'd still probably be jealous).

I watched as James gently set down, hovering just above the ground. He got off his broom and swung Jennifer off into his arms. Stupid, hairless, wig wearing, backstabbing … ugh!

I angrily tightened my hands on the stadium rail. Trying to suppress the hot surge of jealously tripping up my veins. I let out a long breath as James _finally_ handed Jennifer to Remus, who'd come running onto the field.

I feel innumerably better now that she's out of James' arms. Is this how I'm going to be for… forever? All jealous and stuff? Maybe this falling in love thing wasn't such a good idea after all.

Yeah, it probably was a bad idea … NO! No!

Lily Marie Evans, pull yourself together. You will not talk yourself out of this. This is the best and most important thing you'll ever do. Well maybe not ever, but up to this point in your life. You're in love and you're not getting out of it!

I need a chocolate chip cookie. A really big one with extra large chocolate chips. I want at least 20 more chocolate! Darn, they should sell snacks at school Quidditch matches, like they do at muggle baseball games. I could go for some Cracker Jacks right now. I bet you could make a fortune selling candy at matches. I mean, there's just so much stress … and what better way to deal with stress than candy. I checked my pockets. Nothing … not even a measly chocolate frog.

I _need_ chocolate!

Look at me! I'm practically pulling my hair out!

Will Emerson just take the freaking penalty shot already?

Yes! Gryffindor rocks!

I cupped my hands over my mouth, "Take that you filthy cheating Slytherins!"

I don't like cheaters! They bother me.

One of the Slytherin beaters shot a dirty look toward us Gryffindors in the stands, which we, of course, responded to with jeers, rude hand gestures, and insults about his mother.

Generally speaking Gryffindors are nice people, but get us on the Quidditch pitch playing Slytherin and we're the meanest, rudest, and loudest bunch of idiots this side of the Milky Way.

Besides, Washam's mother really is quite ugly.

My eyes flicked up to James again, who was being marked by the Slytherin seeker and seemed more preoccupied trying to lose him then with trying to find the snitch.

Wait … holy sh … sumo wrestlers!

The Slytherin seeker … it's Mr. Hulk!

**ooo…ooo**

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the new chapter! If reviewing tickles your fancy, I wouldn't mind a few.

Now, down to business … I apologize for my slow updating. I wish I could tell you that I'll get the next chapter up more quickly, but unfortunately I fear it's going to be quite the opposite. So I'm apologizing in advance for making everyone wait so long. You may, of course, yell at me about it in your reviews if that'll make you feel better. It won't let me go any faster, but I'll read every one and feel terribly guilty.

Clarification of one thing nearly everyone asked … No, James didn't hear Lily.

**Daystar** – I'm wondering if I even want to college. Is college really all that great? And why in the world do we have Yom Kippur off? I just don't get it! And I don't want to do my homework!

**HauntedAngel**: Oh, I'm sure Sirius had something to do with it. He really can blow up just about anything.

**Skyhoofhearted**: But cliffhangers are fun!

**ThePhantomsRedRose**: I know, I didn't realize either until I turned out the lights. They really ought to warn you.

**PenguinBuddy**: Vittles was angry with James. He'd been publicly humiliated by him and he wanted a bit of revenge, to prove he was superior in a way.

**TajM**: You're probably right, but I was simply drawing from my own wardrobe, so I didn't really consider the timelines.

**PsychoLeopard**: Sorry I over did it. I'll try to work on that in the future.

**ApplePie **and** Piella**: Maybe next chapter.

**LCH8292**: He was embarrassed, I think.

**Withered Quill**: Well here's your fix. You have to try and hold on until next time!

Thanks and Hugs to: **Boogie, GoddessoftheMaaN, Briee, Mischief16, Siriusly.Mad.for.Sweets, missprongs07, ahhhh, genuinescence, Bucky Katt Rocks, xXxSilverWolfxXx, Heiress-To-The-Dark-Throne, graceypoo, famousindafuture, SuperSpy, Sirael, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, Hurleygurl, PurplePixies, misha1989, Neha Singh, xXfiRePhoEnixXx, Bittybye2002, GaryLovesPickles, Sarah, OnerousOrangutang, audreyblaine, Kuddls, abbu jabbu, wishingbutterfly, gldnsunsprite21, J.E.A.R.K.Potter, sodafizzz19, hawaiiangirl, SerenityRose016, squash, Kiyda, Swishy Willow Wand, x-woman1, doe, Trapped Rabbit, Miss Mady, Procrastinator-starting2moro, LilyEPProngsLuver55, vegetarians will rule the Earth, maraudersgurl18, Zilla McFilla, UNLIKELYTOBEARIT, Jami, sexyteleguchica, mfowl, Duck-a-roo, sarahhhhhhhhh, funkysirius, Charity Firewarden, EmeraldEyez1728, il0v3captain0ats, kez192, **and **WhiteCamellia.**


	14. In Which Lily Meets a Snitch

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 14: In Which Lily Meets a Snitch

or

In Which Lily Practices Telepathy

Our heroine's last (and most enlightening) thought:

The Slytherin seeker … it's Mr. Hulk!

**ooo…ooo**

Mr. "Ugly as a Rutabaga Hulk" or Bryson or whatever he's going by these days, but the point is, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

How could I never have noticed before?

He's a bit large for a seeker, if you ask me (which no one did, but if they had, I'd sure have told them). Mind you, he does look much smaller when he's so far up in the air. I watched as he followed James through a few loop the loops.

How could he be the Slytherin Seeker and I'd never noticed? I go to every Quidditch match. Am I that unobservant! Maybe he's new! Yeah, I bet that's it! He's probably a last ditch attempt by the Slytherins to beat the legendary (and extremely HOT) James Potter (who is all mine (well, sort of), so hahaha).

Well, he'll never succeed because … because I said so! (And James is so much nicer than him and for once the nice (and extremely sexy) guy is going to win.)

Hey, this completely explains why James and Mr. Hulky Boy aren't getting along very well (or at all). Not only is James a Gryffindor and Mr. "I Suck at Quidditch (Especially Seeker) Because I'm a Huge Hulk" is a Slytherin, but they're both the team seekers. Yeah, that definitely explains the hostility.

I let out a shout, "Heck yeah!" as Emerson dodged the Slytherin keeper and slammed the quaffle through the left hoop. If there's a Quidditch version of a slam-dunk, that's it.

I ducked as a couple of 3rd years behind me let their banner fall on my head.

"Watch it!" I bellowed, shoving it back at them. "Don't mess with my view of the game or there'll be severe pain. Got it?" They nodded vigorously, looking terrified.

Did I mention that Quidditch against Slytherin brings out the most terrifying in me? Yeah … just don't obscure my view … or else … terrible things will befall you.

I looked back up at James, he was still fine (both meanings), scanning for the snitch while pulling crazy twists and turns to keep Mr. "Vaguely Sloth Like Hulk" occupied.

Hold on. Now shouldn't there have been a few attempts at murdering James by this point in the match? I mean, this _is _Slytherin, trying to murder people is what they do best.

I checked the score, 110-70, Gryffindor. Yeah, those homicidal maniacs should be crawling out of the woodwork any minute if they haven't already.

I tore my gaze away from James as the boy standing at the spot next to me screamed bloody murder and dove cowering for the floor.

What in the biosphere? This fellow's clearly got problems (and is a complete sissy). I looked back to the game and then I saw it, the bludger, heading right for our section of the stands. I screamed too and did a fair imitation of the diving and the cowering. And I admit I was obviously a wee bit unfair when I said the boy was a sissy, clearly this is one of those times that calls for sissy-ish behavior.

I peeked under the railing and saw Sirius racing for the bludger. We are so going to die. There's no way he can get here fast enough. This is so ironic. I mean, what is it that compels the universe to try to kill me as soon as I'm ready to live happily ever after and all that jazz?

I figure I've got about a millisecond left to live and I haven't done anything useful with my life! I've been made Head Girl and I've broken up a bunch of victory parties in the wee hours of the night, but other than that … I've done nothing.

Well, actually, I did kiss James Potter and you know … fall in love with him. I guess that's something to be proud of. So my life isn't all that bad; I've done a heck of a lot more than some people, like … the sissy boy I'm cowering next to. I bet he hasn't done anything remotely as awesome as me.

Oh no! Self-delusion alert! (The boy's probably invented some wicked awesome way to end world hunger or discovered how to bake already sliced bread.) Alright, I'm going to stop thinking about death because obviously what I think about it isn't going to do anything to stop it.

OH MY GODS!

I _LOVE_ (from the deepest depths of my heart) Sirius Black! He's my new hero! Oh wow, that was so awesome. That bludger had to have been like a few yards from obliterating this section of the stands when he practically dove off of his broom to connect his bat with the bludger and sent it whizzing in the opposite direction!

Oh gods … I nearly died. As in wasn't going to be alive anymore! That was so scary! Sirius slumped on his broom, looking relieved and more than a bit worn out.

I know he just saved my life and all, but shouldn't he be protecting our players! What _is_ he doing? Saving my life isn't a valid excuse! This is Quidditch!

I stood up, struggling to my feet with the support of the stadium rail. Since I was the first person up, I was able to look over and spot Ally crouching about 2 rows back. So that's why Sirius nearly killed himself trying to get that bludger. Then I saw that another timeout had been called, so that was why Sirius was floating tiredly over here, the game was on hold. I guess that's alright then.

James was over arguing with the referee, Professor Davenport, gesturing angrily.

"I hope Potter's telling ol' Davenport that Washam was deliberately aiming for the Gryffindor supporters because that had to be the most obvious attempt at sabotage since last year when Sawyer tried to bite off Potter's ear," the announcer shouted over the outrage pouring from all sections of the stands, Slytherin exempted.

James gave a final shout and flew off, clearly still angry. I guess Davenport is showing his bias for Slytherins. Just because he was in that house doesn't make it the best; in fact, I think that might even make it a little worse.

"No penalty! That's outrageous! … get some new eyeballs you stupid scum…"

There was a collective "Boo" from the Gryffindor supporters as McGonagall yanked the microphone away. Sirius shot a last look at Ally, who was blowing him a kiss, and flew back to the center of the game.

The whistle sounded and the match resumed. I cheered as Sirius sent a bludger whirling rather viciously toward Washam. Washam rolled over, barely avoiding the bludger.

James was back to searching for the snitch, but I didn't see Mr. Hulk. I wonder where he is. Hmm … wait, isn't that him? But what's he doing on the other side of the pitch? So, he's no longer marking James … odd. Why would he suddenly change tactics?

Slytherin scored three more times is the next ten minutes (rotten, garbage dwelling, filth bathing cheaters).

"That's 110-100, Gryffindor's game, but barely. They're taking a real blow without Jennifer Bell here. Potter needs to catch the snitch soon if he doesn't want to endanger Gryffindor's chances of winning the cup."

James was indeed frantically searching the pitch for the snitch, but he obviously wasn't having much luck.

I have figured out Mr. Hulky Boy's new plan, though. He's basically doing the mirror image of whatever James is doing. An odd tactic to be sure, but probably more likely to work than the whole marking idea. If Mr. Hulk gets lucky and the snitch is spotted closer to him than James he _might_ be able to get it.

An annoying flutter brushed my ear. My hand shot up reflexively, attempting to bat away whatever had touched me. I assume it's those stupid 3rd year banner wavers. If you can't keep your banner under control don't bring it! I mean that's completely common sense!

The banner brushed my ear again and I swatted at it without looking behind me. My hand hit cool metal. I whipped around and went cross-eyed focusing on what was fluttering right in between my eyes, namely the snitch.

_The SNITCH!_

Oh my gods! Oh my gods. Shoo … go away! I flapped my hands desperately at it. Go away. Please, please go. Shoo …

"Come on," I begged silently, "Please go away." It didn't move. My day has just taken a turn for the worse (not that it was going so swimmingly before). Why is the snitch here? I bet that secret government agency, which is listening to my thoughts, sent it to punish me for threatening to permanent stick their underwear to their heads. I knew I was being too harsh. Still, doesn't this seem a bit extreme? Everyone knows what happens when the snitch is spotted in the stands (and in case you don't let me just say that it generally involves spectators spending weeks in St. Mungo's). This is so unfair. This snitch needs to leave me alone and go bother some Slytherins or something.

Maybe if I ignore it it'll go away. Yes, I'll ignore it. Good plan. I turned back around.

There is not a snitch fluttering by my ear.

There is absolutely not a highly important snitch fluttering most annoyingly by my ear. No there's not. Nope.

The snitch abandoned my ear to float by the front of my neck. I guess it doesn't like being ignored.

It's kind of cute though, isn't it? Like a baby bird. But it's not here, of course, not here at all.

"You aren't fooling me," I whispered, "I know you're not here." If anything the snitch's fluttering became smugger. Stupid smug snitch. I tried to shove the snitch away again and it just dodged my hand and stayed where it was, like a gold little locket by my neck. Mind you, it was a moving gold little locket without a chain, but still I need to get James' attention somehow.

I wish the seeker didn't have to be the one to catch the snitch because then I could just nab it and hand it to him, but nooo … only the seeker can catch the snitch. Stupid rules of Quidditch.

I shot a desperate look at James and tried to shoot him a telepathic message, "James, darling, I know you're busy but if you could come take care of this snitch, I'll give you a nice kiss."

He didn't notice! Why didn't he notice? Alright, he's probably just distracted, I'll try again.

I concentrated firmly on James, "James, dearest, the snitch is right here come and get it. Please!"

James didn't even glance in my direction on his next sweep of the pitch. Sorry, worthless, unobservant, telepathically deaf seeker! Ok, I'll try one more time, but this is it!

"James, you donkey butt, get your sorry bow-legged self over here and catch the darn snitch."

If possible he looked even less in my direction than he had before (which was rather hard seeing as he hadn't looked at me at all before). Ok, clearly the telepathic communication isn't going to work. I need a new idea.

Umm … I have no new ideas! I'm a failure! I can't even telepathically contact the man I love! Wait … that could be due to the fact he doesn't know I love him.

"I LOVE you, Potter!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as he pulled a feint (which only I knew was a feint, seeing as he wasn't anywhere near the bloody snitch since it was here with me!).

No one even looked in my direction after that outburst. Not that I'd expected them too because not only was everyone watching Mr. Hulk desperately trying to avoid slamming into the ground, but declarations of love for James are quite normal at Quidditch matches.

Do you know how many marriage proposals he gets per match? I'd say about 50 or so. It's ridiculous. I'd be jealous, but he always ignores them. Ok, so I'm a wee bit jealous I suppose, but at least there's no carrying or riding on the same broom involved! Ok, you know, I wouldn't be terribly upset if all of those girls (and the few boys) just fell off of the stands or met with some other sort of misfortune. But I won't dwell on it. It'll just make me bothered.

Alright, let's give the telepathic thing one more try. After all, I'm sure he heard me. He might not know it, but it must be lodged somewhere in his subconscious.

"James! The snitch is right here with me!" I thought as loudly as I could.

I nearly fell over the edge of the stands as James pulled up mid-flight and whirled around, his eyes going directly to me. Yes! I am the woman! I am the Mistress of Awesomeness! I am the Queen of Telepathic Communication! I deserve a prize or a medal or at least a cookie. I am the … what's he doing?

WHAT is he doing? Why isn't he coming over here? He's turning back around. Why? WHY? The snitch is right here. As in right here. As in not over there, but over here next to … oh buggers.

Stupid, sneaky, silent, no good, worthless waste of metal! It just had to choose the moment when I'd finally succeeded with the whole telepathic thing to drift around behind my back … silently. Silent as a … a … grave or turnip or something.

Argh! I'm so angry I can't even come up with a properly descriptive noun or verb or adjective or whatever part of speech I'm actually talking about. I collapsed down on the bleacher seats and put my head in my hands. I'm so having a bad day. I can't even think in correct grammar.

The snitch fluttered comfortingly by my right eye. It's really not all that bad for a little hunk of metal without brains.

"I think we could get along if we put our minds to it," I confessed to it in a whisper. After all, I didn't want anyone hearing me (not that they would with all of the ruckus) and thinking I was possessed and talking to myself since I seem to be having that problem a lot lately.

The snitch fluttered up and down a bit, like a nod. If only we had met under different circumstances, but, alas, we didn't. It's a pity.

I looked at the score: 110-120, Slytherins. Emerson has the quaffle, but he's boxed in by the Slytherin chasers. I looked at James who was high above the Slytherin goal posts shouting advice to Emerson. Why isn't he looking for the snitch? I mean it's right here!

Hey, I've got it! I know what the problem is!

Alright, the reason James can't see the snitch is because he's looking for "the snitch" and this snitch is having an identity crisis! Poor baby, it needs counseling. Unfortunately I'm all it's got, so we'll have to make do.

"Mr. Snitch, I understand you're having a mid-match crisis," I whispered, "But the only way you're going to get over it is to get back out in the game and face your fears. Quidditch can indeed be a terrifying sport and frankly I don't blame you for not wanting a bunch of people chasing after you and trying to capture you. That must be a hard thing to do again and again, but some seekers are quite nice and don't abuse you after they catch you or rough you up. Of course, I can see that a few seekers would hardly make up for the other rude ones, but if you'd like I could give the seekers a talking to after the match and tell them to be nicer. I'm actually on decent-ish terms with one of the seekers, well, we were on decent-ish terms until last night, but I'm sure he'll listen to me and as for the other one, I would have to be very threatening and would probably have to put him in a full body bind, but I could do it. Would you like that?"

I waited while the snitch fluttered back and forth indecisively. Finally it moved left to right, indicating no.

"Oh … alright then," I said, feeling rather put out.

The snitch bounced around looking happy.

"Are you … feeling better?" I ventured, and it bounced enthusiastically up and down. Wow, I should have been a counselor! I am clearly awesome. I fixed all of his problems in one quick session.

I patted the snitch a few times for good measure and it practically purred up against my hand like a cat. I smiled happily; it's always nice to know you're appreciated.

Suddenly I got that sinking feeling that hits you when you're being watched. I looked up and my eyes traveled straight across the pitch to lock with those of Mr. Beady Eyed Hulk.

I can see it in his eyes, in the way they're glinting … he's seen the snitch!

**ooo…ooo**

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. I apologize again for the long wait on getting it up and how short it is now that it's up. Hopefully I'll manage the next chapter in a more timely fashion. If you're so inclined and aren't having problems with an emotionally defunct snitch, a review would be appreciated.

**Daystar** – What with history we won't have time to become famous authors or write fics. I'm impressed I even got this up.

**Taniita** – Mr. Hulk would be the fellow who tried to accost Lily in the halls after she was thrown out of Divination.

**GoddessoftheMaaN **– That is quite amazing.

**LCH8292** – No, James won't be hit by a bludger.

**HauntedAngel** – There was a little bit of Sirius in this chap and there will be some definite action for him near the end.

**Wishingbutterfly** – I'm planning on writing to the end of the story, which isn't very descriptive I know, but if you're asking if I'm writing till their deaths, I'm not. It's going to end while they're in school.

**Kez192** – The 13 thing was intentional, I'm glad you liked it.

**Occhio di Lince** – I'm afraid you misunderstood my comment to Daystar (which often happens with inside jokes between friends). I'm well aware of what Yom Kippur is and it's importance having several Jewish friends. What I wrote was in jest and if it offended you in anyway I apologize most profusely.

**GaryLovesPickles** – We'll just have to see.

**Procrastinator-starting2moro** – I don't know if James is a chaser or not. The books and movies make him seem to be a seeker, but I frankly think he was a chaser. Of course, I am ignoring that for now since I wanted to set him up against Mr. Hulk in a seeker battle.

**TropicalTreat101** – The bang was the Marauders blowing something up. My suspicion is that the fault lies with Sirius and Peter's eyebrows are quite irregular now, but it really was just added by the author (me) for the purpose of distraction so that James could scamper away and further prolong the misery of unrequited love.

**TajM** – Thanks for the luck I'm going to need it. Sounds awesome, I would kill for some extended vacations. Hope you had fun.

**Realmer06** – If you want you're more than welcome to use my quotes, but I would appreciate it if you use a direct quite you mention it's mine. As for ideas, just go ahead and take them. You're right on about the Enchanted Forest Chronicles, that's where I got my idea for chapter titles from.

**Crystal tears x** – Lily doesn't get to go crazy crazy, she does get to be inherently crazy, though.

**Rubber ducky 9** – Sorry I didn't e-mail you, but I just read your review today and it seems kind of pointless now. Hope you'll forgive me.

**Trapped Rabbit **– No offense, but you weren't exactly nice in your review, but I owe you a thank you anyways. Yours is the only review I read in the past few weeks, quite on accident actually, and I felt so bad I skipped my English hw to try and get some work done and here it is.

Thanks and Hugs to: **FrEgOrGeLuVeR225, sarah, genuinescence, famousindafuture, Boogie, CarbonMonoxide, missprongs07, Briee, Mischief16, Siriusly.Mad.for.Sweets, Hurleygurl, Silver Weasley, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, Miss Mady, me, innovator, eluding-you, xXfiRePhoEnixXx, vegetarians will rule the Earth, WhiteCamellia, Heiress-To-The-Dark-Throne, SuperSpy, psychobubble, Misha1989, I am blond, JAMES Blond., Artemisa27, Crystal Kisses, Jami, spoons are for marmalade skies, Bucky Katt Rocks, funkysirius, leeleigh, graceypoo, watersprite87, neha, october tuscany, pyromaniac2234, gldnsunsprite21, Janine, Sango-Inu-Yasha-lover, skyhoofhearted, siriusforeva, J.E.A.R.K.Potter, unknown-insanity, Deefa, LemonDropAnyone, sexyteluguchica, misconceptions, x-woman1, Luminous Star, hawaiiangirl, butterfly888, too lazy to log in, FirstDaysOfSummer, always-mr-moony, Charity Firewarden, m00nshine, UNLIKELYTOBEARIT, Nikki101, audreyblaine, Leigh A. Sumpter, deaths-NIGHTmare, Padfeet the Evil Twin, tee hee, Lmnop567, iheartyoo, **and** mga.orphan.**


	15. In Which Lily Avoids Death

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 15: In Which Lily Avoids Death

Or

In Which Lily Finds Herself in a Bad Situation (On so Many Levels)

Our heroine's last breathtaking insight:

I can see it in his eyes; in the way they're glinting … he's seen the snitch!

**ooo…ooo**

This is _so_ not good. I'm going to die and it's going to be grizzly.

I'm going to be smashed into a tiny little pancake (well, maybe a big little pancake, but still … a PANCAKE). And after they peel me off of the stand, they're going to have to bury me in a round coffin. Round! That's not normal and ever so disappointing.

My mother will be heartbroken (or at the very least slightly torn up) and my dear old dad might not be able to live with the loss of his youngest daughter (well, except for the fact he's as healthy as a horse, but he might catch a cold or something). I'm too young to die!

Maybe I was wrong and he didn't see the snitch! Yeah, I was probably wrong, you know, except for the fact Mr. Hulk is heading at top speed in this direction, which does slightly indicate he's seen the snitch (but only slightly).

Wait, what about James? I looked over at him and saw the moment where he _FINALLY_ caught on to the whole 'the snitch is next to me' deal. He immediately took off and since he is so much closer it's obvious he's going to catch the snitch. Which means I'm saved.

Yay! Happy dances all around. I looked triumphantly over at Mr. Hulk only to find he was still coming at me.

What the heck? Why's he still coming? He must know he can't reach the snitch in time! He'll smash into the stands … wait … that's the point isn't it?

Oh merciful gods of bright sunny days, please smite Mr. Hulk (or Bryson if you require a real name) with a bolt of happy sunshine-ness (oh, and by the way, last Monday was lovely, excellent work on your part) because if you don't, he's going to crash into the stands as revenge on the Gryffindors and he'll be able to say he was just going after the snitch!

"Holy Fing Shit!" I guess the announcer's caught on to the 'snitch is next to me' thing too. Everyone in the stands turned to look at the announcer (completely missing the fact that we Gryffindors are about to be massacred) who was trying to get the microphone back from McGonagall. He dove at her in what was actually quite an amusing way (mainly because it looked like he was trying to snog her senseless) and grabbed the microphone.

"The snitch is in the Gryffindor stands! Get out of there! Get out of there now!"

I think I mentioned it earlier, but when the snitch is spotted in the stands, fans end up in St. Mungo's for weeks (or they end up dead, but lets not dwell on that (and really it hasn't happened in years, but then again the snitch hasn't been spotted in the stands in years))! People do tend to take the snitch being in the stands rather seriously, thus the announcers reaction and the fact McGonagall just tore her hat in half and doesn't seem to have realized it yet.

Mass pandemonium has obviously broken out due to the announcer's crazed warning. People are screaming, shoving, and in general making things a million times worse. It'd be quite amusing if we weren't all about to die.

"Where is it?" I heard someone cry.

James and Mr. Hulk are now obviously racing for the stands, but James has the lead by a good few lengths. I suppose that's comforting; if I have to die, at least Gryffindor will win the match (and we better win the cup too)!

"There! There it is!" Someone yelled pointing at me (well, more to the snitch that was hanging out with me, but to me all the same). Immediately everyone near me began desperately trying to get away. They opened up quite an astonishing amount of space around me, leaving a circle-ish area with no one in it except me standing in the center.

I backed away from the snitch and it followed me. I tried going under the snitch, but it kept following me.

"You're going to get me killed!" I whispered in anguish to it. I tried to move away again and it kept following. I looked at all of the students who are panickedly trying to get away from me.

I have to stay here. If I leave and the snitch follows me it'll put other people in danger. I'm way too nice. I'm going to get myself smushed for these people. It's the stupid Gryffindor in me.

I mean, let's face facts; if this were the Slytherin stand, everyone would be trying to hide behind each other, putting those with the purest blood in back. And if this were the Ravenclaw stand, everyone would be arguing about the trajectory of the seekers and the best place to stand to avoid being injured. Of course, we can't forget those Hufflepuffs; they'd be loyally offering to stand in front of their friends, to keep them from being hurt.

Too bad this isn't the Ravenclaw stand; I think they might be the only ones who would have had a fighting chance.

Great, another count down: I have ten seconds to live.

That's not very many seconds; I wish I had a few more.

Nine seconds.

I haven't written a will! Oh gods, who will get my things? Who would want my things? Good point, no one. So it isn't so bad that I don't have a will.

Eight seconds.

Did the announcer just say my hair is carrot colored because if that little, pompous, ignorant, blind, worthless, useless, teacher-snogging, foul-mouthed, git just said I had carrot colored hair, I'm going to MURDER him! I don't care if I'm about to die. I will come back from the dead and murder him dead, good and dead. He won't be six feet under ground, he'll be sixty-six! Does my hair look carrot colored to you? That's right, it doesn't. And do you know why that is? Because it's NOT! Honestly, "The snitch seems to be following that carrot headed girl." How dumb can you get? He's going to get it!

Seven seconds.

Oh worthless, stupid pieces of sh … shiny paper, I haven't told James I love him! Drat it, I meant to do that. I can't believe I didn't! I mean, I did yell it and his subconscious knows I love him, but he (the conscious part) doesn't! My love life is a failure (although we did get in several very nice kisses before my tragically young death, which will occur in 6.5 seconds). If I had a will I could have written in it that I love him. Ugh, I knew I should have made a will.

Six seconds.

I wish James would say, "To hell with the snitch," in that manly voice of his and rescue me instead. Oh, that was a sincerely sappy thought. I can't believe I just thought that. Where's my team spirit? Of course James can't save me, he must catch the snitch and win the game! There isn't any fuzzy space here, clear black and white (although technically those are both opaque and not clear at all). But wouldn't it be lovely, if he cared about me more than the snitch and winning the game? Of course, he wouldn't since Quidditch is his life, but I would value him above my life … and I think I'm going to go die of embarrassment now. I can't believe I just thought that. I mean, come on. Am I woman or am I a maple tree? The sap must stop now! I refuse to die being all sappy.

Five seconds.

I can't believe I have to die with this ungrateful snitch. I mean, I counseled it, helped it through its many problems, and now it's acting as an accomplice in my murder! Why I ought to melt that ungrateful, spoiled, bratty, little snitch down into scrap metal and make it into a nice chain and I can use to choke that spotty headed announcer (and my hair isn't pumpkin colored either!). I need a vacation (and an anger management clinic (although, if people would just not insult my hair then we wouldn't have this problem. It is auburn (with a slightly more reddish tint), come on people.)).

Four seconds.

So James will catch the snitch in about one second, narrowly avoid hitting the stands, win the game, and find himself girlfriendless (not that I'm technically his girlfriend, but technicalities are over-rated). That's kind of disappointing. I hope he'll be alright, I mean losing a sort-of girlfriend can be rough. I hope Mr. 'I'm a Bad Bad (Extra Bad) Person' Hulk breaks his neck when he rams into me. That would make my impending doom almost worth it.

Oh … that is IT! That is the final straw. I am officially coming back to haunt that scrawny punk announcer kid and boy is he ever going to regret being born. What does he mean, "Looks like the Gryffindor fans are only going to take one loss for this victory and it's not too great of a loss at that?" Not too great a loss! Hello, Head Girl! Yeah, that's me. I'm clearly semi-important. No one loves me! Well, James loves me. So that's one person. Only one person loves me! Maybe it's good I'm dying young. This way I won't have to live out that terrible future involving me living with a bunch of cats and no one noticing when I die. People will darn well be noticing when I die this time. Back straight, Lily, you have to look nice in the photographs for posterity. Should I smile, would that be too much?

Three seconds.

I can see James clearly now; he doesn't look so good. This game must be taking a toll on him. Or, I guess, maybe it could be that he's a mite bit upset that his girl (sort of) is about to be made into a lovely pancake corpse. Well, I guess it's alright if he's conflicted as long as he doesn't do anything stupid like trying to rescue me instead of grabbing the snitch. Or heavens forbid trying to do both at once. As it is he's having to come in upside-down to snag the snitch, but if he tried to get me too, he'd have to let go of his broom and then we'd both die. And if James died I'd feel ever so guilty. Although, I would be dead and, thus it'd be hard to feel anything at all, but I'm sure I could manage somehow. I do excel at making myself miserable.

I closed my eyes as I felt James swoosh by me. I'm about to die.

I felt a tug on my waist and I was instantly weightless for a few disorienting seconds. I opened my eyes to find myself perched (sprawled really) across James Tristan Potter's broom, watching Mr. Hulk ram into the stands bellow.

I think I have a slight problem.

"Oh gods, I just … I just." James was shaking. His hands were trembling around my waist. "I lost … I didn't catch the snitch. Oh gods. Oh gods."

"James …" I ventured, but was cut off by his head falling forward to bounce rather pathetically on my shoulder. I think he may have just had a mental breakdown.

"What the hell, Potter!" The announcer bellowed. "He just lost Gryffindor the game to save that girl! What was he thinking? Is he mad? It's just a freakin' girl for heavens sake! That's the first time in his career with the Gryffindor team he hasn't caught the snitch and, folks; I must say I'm disappointed. This couldn't come at a worse time and it may even put Gryffindor out of the running for the cup."

Why did he have to rescue me? I'd rather be dead! This is so embarrassing.

Sirius pulled up on his broom a few feet from us. "Prongs!" James looked up, while I sat there stock still, twiddling my thumbs.

I was confused by their lack of conversation, so I looked up and it turned out they were communicating in Marauder speak, meaning no words. I've studied it a little over the years and I think it's some sort of sign language where symbols represent ideas and when certain symbols are used in conjunction with other symbols they represent different ideas. On the whole a very complicated way to communicate if you ask me, but no one did because no one cares what I say. Take right now for example. I have something very important to say, but would anyone pay me a bit of attention if I said it? No.

The silence (well, silence between Sirius and James, the pitch, on the other hand, is no where near silent, it's filled with a cacophony of people who are alternatively angry, pissed, angry, shocked, outraged, pleased, and sadistically evil. This combination obviously doesn't make for a lot of silence.) was broken by Sirius shouting, "Mate, I know, but they don't!"

"Umm … excuse me," I ventured. I'm so uncomfortable right now. I mean, the situation is way uncomfortable (especially for a Quidditch fan like me), but well there are other things, pressing things, making this the most uncomfortable experience of my life.

"What?" Black snapped, clearly in a rather bad mood.

"I … I don't think he's caught the snitch," I said, with a gesture toward Mr. Hulk. James and Sirius both whipped their heads in that direction.

"How could he not have caught it?" James asked no one in particular (which was a lucky thing since I was the only one who could answer that was me and I was still working up the courage). Sirius whistled as some of the 6th years rolled Mr. Hulk over a bit to look for the snitch, which didn't appear to be in residence from this point of view (and their point of view, since it wasn't).

"Well, I'll be! I can't believe it! That lucky son of a …" McGonagall has obviously recovered well enough to yank the microphone away at the hint of un-tasteful language, and I must say it's a relief, it was getting on my nerves and only think if my mother's foul language detector was here, we'd all be in for it.

"Bryson apparently missed the snitch somehow. Lord knows it must have been hard to manage that! I mean the bloke practically flew right into. You'd think he could've at least pinned it. I guess the cosmos has decided to pay Potter a little favor for his good deed."

"Thank you gods!" Sirius shouted, touching his forehead in what actually looked like real reverence. James was just gaping like a fish. I think he might have gotten a little too used to the idea he had lost spectacularly.

"James, James, James, Are you LISTENING!" Sirius yelled.

"Yeah, yeah," James responded distractedly.

"Mate, we're still in the game, go set Evans down somewhere and get back in, we've got a chance!" Sirius grinned wolfishly. "And Evans, although I know it's tempting to draw Jamesie-boy's attention during the match, tone it down until after and I promise he's all yours." For his last comment he pulled a spectacular eyebrow raise, which got plenty of spluttering from James.

"Umm … there's a slight problem," I said. They both looked at me.

"Are you hurt? You're hurt! Oh my gods! Where? Is it bleeding?" James sure knows how to take an idea and build on it without the least bit of confirmation.

"Shut-up, James. What sort of problem, Evans? We haven't got all day Davenport's only called a quick time out to see if Bryson's still conscious and capable of flying."

"The snitch …" I started only to be cut off by Sirius.

"Don't worry, cupcake, James will find it. That's what he's good at."

"But …"

"No buts, ok? James, take her down and stick her by Ally, she'll keep her out of trouble."

"Wait … you don't understand."

"You_ are_ hurt! I'll take you to Madam Jeffries right now. You should never have left the hospital wing; you're probably catching your death too! Where'd I put my cloak, you can have that."

"For heaven's sakes James, your cloak is in the locker room and Evans is bundled up right fine (which was a lie, but I decided not to comment). Now what is it we don't understand?" Sirius looked over his shoulder at Davenport who was watching Bryson testing out his slightly ruffled looking broom. I frankly surprised the fellow can still fly (it did appear he was having trouble walking when he stood up, though, so I guess I'll just have to be satisfied with that.

"I know where the snitch is." Yeah, boy do I know. At least, I hope it's the snitch. I mean if it's not the snitch I've got an even bigger problem than I originally thought.

As it is I hate the rules of Quidditch. Why must the seeker catch the snitch? Why can't I just catch it and hand it to him? I mean if they're going to have these useless, stupid rules they really _really_ (infinite number of reallys) ought to make a rule about the snitch not going down (or just plain into period) the shirts of helpless young girls! Do you have any idea how mortifying this is? I have a snitch … a SNITCH down my shirt. It's nicely wedged into my bra and apparently the only way I can get it out (due to the twisted, freakish, satanic, _and_ sadistic rules of Quidditch) is to have a seeker reach DOWN my shirt and get it! DOWN my shirt! That's a negative on my allowed touching scale. That's a million times negative. That's infinity negative. But I suppose if I have to chose which seeker I'd prefer I'd chose James (and really it wouldn't be so bad. As long as the sneaky little bugger didn't try anything!). I mean, who else would I chose. Mr. Hulk? Ha ha ha. That's so wrong it's almost funny. Nah, it's just plain wrong.

I suppose it says something about cosmic irony that when James opted to save me instead of catching the snitch, the snitch got caught in my shirt by accident (at least I assume it's an accident. If it's not that snitch is one sick little fellow).

"What!" James and Sirius chorused in unison. Those two spend way too much time together.

"I know where the snitch is."

"We heard you! Where is it?" Sirius cried, reaching over to grab me by the shoulders. I froze. If I move I have the sneaking suspicion Sirius might just fall to his death. That boy, could he not just stay on his own broom?

"Umm … it's … well … it's right here." I'm in so much trouble; I can't just come out and say it's down my shirt. I can't!

"Huh?" James said, his forehead scrunching up, looking absolutely adorable.

"It's … it's currently located under the … umm … fabric I am using to … act as a … oh for gods sake, it's down my shirt!"

Sh … Sherbert Shining Shelves, I think I said that out loud. Oh, yeah, definitely. It's either that or James' eyes just decided to relocate themselves to outside of his head for no particular reason. Maybe I'll just die of embarrassment now and save myself some trouble later.

**ooo…ooo**

I hope everyone liked this chapter. Reviews are always appreciated, but completely voluntary.

Apparently I'm supposed to start replying to reviewers by this new private message thing, so I'm going to give it a shot. However, because I am supremely lazy in all likelihood I will only reply to people with questions and/or comments that necessitate replies. Of course, this leaves everyone else out to dry, but I do appreciate your reviews even if I don't reply. If this plan is complete crap let me know in your review and I'll try to come up with something else.

Thanks and Hugs to everyone … and their uncles.

(And special thanks to my beta, Daystar.)


	16. In Which Lily Reasons with a Seeker

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 16: In Which Lily Reasons with a Crazed Seeker

Or

In Which Gryffindor Finally Wins

Our heroine's previous efforts at problem solving:

Maybe I'll just die of embarrassment now and save myself some trouble later.

**ooo…ooo**

Sirius' mouth dropped and he let go of my shoulders in shock and consequently had to perform a sloth roll in mid-air to keep from falling off of his broom. What an idiot.

"It's _WHERE_?" He bellowed, as soon as he was upright once again. James still hasn't moved. I think he's in shock. It's a very shocking thing to be sure. But I think I should at least be more shocked than him. I mean, is it down his shirt? NO! Life is so unfair.

"Down my shirt," I whispered meekly.

"Down your shirt," Sirius repeated sounding like a slightly messed up echo.

"As in down your shirt?" He asked with a lot of gesturing that made it look like he wanted to point at my shirt, but wasn't sure if that would be appropriate.

"Yes, as in down my shirt." This is getting slightly annoying. How much confirmation does this boy need? If this keeps up anymore, I might just have to add him to my list of people I'm planning to kill.

"_Your _shirt?"

"Oh, for heavens sake, Sirius, the snitch is down _my_ shirt! The shirt I'm wearing _right _now, at this very instant, the one with the vaguely intellectual pun on communism on the front! Is that so hard to understand?" I shouted, waving my hands in the air out of pure frustration (I mean, I know boys are dense, but _this_ dense? I expect better).

"Looks like there some sort of argument going between Potter, Black, and the girl with the tangerine colored hair. Really, she ought to just be grateful that Potter rescued her, which is more than anyone else would have done, and let them get on with the game. It appears that Davenport's about to end the timeout whether she's off the pitch or not."

TANGERINE! Alright, that's it. This fellow clearly is blind (and has a terribly good thesaurus at his disposal). I'm going to find out who he is and make his life miserable. I'll steal his homework assignments right before they're due and I'll tell all his girlfriends that he's cheating on them and I'll make all his friends hate him! Wow, that's pretty malicious, I don't know if I'm up to it. Why, oh why, wasn't I a Slytherin? They can do this sort of petty revenge no sweat. I'm just too nice. I could probably manage stealing his homework without feeling _too_ guilty (as long as I did it far in advance, so he would have time to re-do it and get it turned in). Ugh, I have a serious problem with revenge … I just can't do it well! I have no finesse … no sense of evil … no sadistic plot for world domination! I suppose it could be worse, though.

I mean, I am really good with empty threats. And speaking of those, if that … that spongified, jumped up, liver lipped, brown nosing, ugly, pathetic excuse for an announcer describes my hair in any way that refers to the color orange or its associates ever again I will string him up from the ceiling of the Great Hall by his eyelashes and sit around waiting for him to fall down so I can laugh at _his _pancake corpse and insult his hair color (although, his hair is a very nice shade of brown (I would kill to have hair like that (not that I'd ever let him know, of course)))! And this is all really beside the point anyway since my hair is not orange! Nor will it ever be (except on every day ending in 'y', but those really shouldn't count!).

Hmm … do you suppose James is brain dead? He's looking rather glazed over. It could be a possibility.

I waved my hand casually in front of his eyes. He blinked! So he is alive. Now the question is has he become unresponsive because he's upset he has to reach down my shirt or because he's happy about it? Gosh … that's a though one. As an attention seeking female I want him to be happy he has to reach down my shirt, but as a sensible, pepper spray armed young lady, all I've got to say is that he'd better be horrified out of his mind!

"… so technically we have the game in the bag," Sirius said, winding up his rather long and involved description of strategy and odds that I just blocked out because it seemed rather pointless to me. Isn't it obvious? Does no one else get this? James just has to reach down my shirt fish out this little problematic (and possibly perverted) snitch and we win. Yay. Whoop-de-doo. Let's have a party and all that jazz.

"TWWEEEEEEE"

"And that's the whistle folks! The game is back on. Bryson's flying a bit lopsided, but at least he doesn't have a clunky mango headed bird riding on his broom. That'll sure put a crimp in Potter's flying style. Oh, for heavens sake! At least put her on Black's broom, so she might get hit by a bludger!"

The whistle had immediately shaken James out of his frozen-ness and he looked around a bit like he was confused about where he was. He seemed to decide he was on a broom after looking down for a few seconds, but then he looked up and saw me and gave a rather girly squeal and tried to scamper away from me onto Sirius' broom. Unfortunately Sirius moved out of the way, so James was left rather precariously balanced on the end of the broom with nowhere to go but back my way and he seemed to be trying to avoid that at all costs. Well now I know that he's most certainly horrified, which I suppose is a good thing (although my inner female is now curled up and bawling in the corner).

It was adorable to watch him, though. In fact it was almost so cute I missed that … that … well, let's just say there are no words my mother would approve of to describe him … announcer saying that my hair was … oh, what was it again? Right, MANGO colored! Has he ever even seen a mango? Obviously not because my hair doesn't resemble one in any way shape or form. Wait … I've figured out the problem, he's colorblind! That's clearly it; he just can't tell what color my hair _really_ is. Poor fellow. I almost feel sorry for him. I know I wouldn't want to be colorblind.

Alright, I clearly don't have time to fixate on this right now, but as soon as all of this drama is over I swear I'll come up with some wicked awesome ways to kill him with no one suspecting it's me. So that's all nice and decided. Now I've just got to figure out why James has his fingers in his ears and is muttering, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home." Gods, how I pity myself.

"James?" I ventured. No response, but that could be due to the fact he can't hear me. Or he could be ignoring me.

I looked at Sirius, who seemed to be desperate to get back to the game that we were floating over. He distractedly glanced my way as I called his name. I pointed at James. He looked at James. Then he let out a rather lengthy string of words I shan't be repeating here for the sake of fragile ears. Below I've recorded the translation of what he said into decent people speak:

What is he doing?

Does he think he's dreaming?

What an idiot, this is not a dream.

Where did I put my wand?

Ah, here it is.

Aguamenti!

James _finally_ stopped muttering as Sirius drenched him with a high-powered jet of water.

"What in the bloody blazes was that for?" James cried, wiping water out of his eyes.

"Something seems to be going down over the game. Black just drenched Potter with water and the girl with the sweet potato pie colored hair appears to be caught in the middle."

See, he is blind. I'm not in the middle. I'm slightly to the side (and Sirius only got me a little wet, although, you'd think he would try to reason through these ideas of his a bit before implementing them).

"For being a (censored with good reason), that's why! This is a game Potter; get your head in it! You can't sit around and pretend you're dreaming!"

Sirius does have a point.

"I wasn't pretending I was dreaming. I was fruitlessly wishing I was. And yes there's a difference, Black!"

I suppose there's a little bit of a difference, but not in what it causes a person to do. So really it's all just a silly issue of semantics that is far too trivial to deal with right now. I mean, do you see me dealing with trivial things? No. I'm not even commenting on that jumped up, colorblind, unfortunately shaped, dropped on his head repeatedly as an infant, sorry excuse for an announcer and his comments about the color of my hair, now am I? See, they ought to follow my excellent example.

"Well you aren't dreaming, so get over it!"

"I'm over it already. Take Lily down to the stands will you? I'm going to go find the snitch, now won't that make you happy?"

Maybe he has amnesia. I, however, do not and there is no way in the great wide universe that I'm letting that boy drop me off anywhere (or his friends drop me off anywhere) without getting this thing out of my shirt! It's coming out like it or not! Amnesia or not! And gods, I just realized how sincerely wrong that sounded. I bet those government agents are having a good laugh over that, but it's not like it sounds (sort of) in my defense. And none of it is my fault at all. It's all the snitch's fault. If it weren't down my shirt, I wouldn't need to get it out of my shirt and that would just save me so much trouble.

"James, we can't put Lily back in the stands until you get the snitch," Sirius said, in a quiet sort of 'I think you've just lost your last marble and don't want you to kill me' voice.

"Why ever not?" James said, looking honestly confused. Merlin, that boy is so adorable when he's confused.

"Because … umm … well … the snitch …. you see … it's … and … well … Why don't you tell him Lily?"

Oh, that's noble, pawning the job off on me. Sirius Black you shall get it through the nose one day for your artful dodging. I know it and you know it and everyone knows it, so therefore it shall be. Humph. I hope your retribution is in the form of a dump truck full of bananas being dumped over you. Hehe … that would be funny. Imagine him covered in bananas. And we could get pictures. Oh, the blackmail. And yellow so isn't his color. Charming idea, I must remember that for a later date.

"The snitch is down my shirt, James!" Really, I don't see how anyone could forget that. It seems rather memorable (or maybe it's just memorable to me, although, you don't see Sirius forgetting, now do you?).

All of the color drained straight out of James' face and he started muttering again while pinching his arm. "This is all a dream, this is all a dream."

Fat chance, sweetheart (I've already tried that and it so didn't work).

"It's not a dream, for crying out loud!" I yelled, obviously rather frustrated (and who wouldn't be).

"It has to be a dream!" James cried, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me like a stag caught in the headlights, "There is no way, I mean, no way ever in the entire universe, that a snitch would fly down the shirt of the girl I lo … like, so that only I can get it out. Do you understand me? No way, it's impossible. It's impossibly impossible. **I AM DREAMING!**"

"If you say that any louder that annoying announcer kid might hear you and announce it for the whole world to hear," Sirius said wryly. I hate his wry-ness, I have a half deranged mad man hanging around my shoulders and he's being wry. Yeah, I'm going to have to kill him.

"If you like me so much, why is it such a problem to reach down my shirt?" Good question if I do say so myself, although, I could have phrased it a bit more delicately if I'd put my mind to it.

"I'm not reaching down your shirt!" James yelled, letting go of my shoulders (about time he did to, he was pressing rather hard).

"Why not?" Sirius asked, looking honestly perplexed. He may be annoying, but at least he's in my boat on this one. It doesn't make any sense. I mean, isn't this every guy's fantasy. Here I am, the girl he supposedly likes and I _need_ him to reach down my shirt! I don't know much about men, but that seems like something they'd want, not be utterly terrified of. It's not like I'll kill him or something. I understand that it's not his fault and he did just save my life. Well, if he tries something I'll kill him, but other than that.

James made a frantic gesture at Sirius that clearly said, "Come here right now I have utterly life and death important things to discuss with you in a secretive manner."

Sirius rolled his eyes and flew over to James' end of the broom and they started whispering. I tried eavesdropping, but I couldn't hear anything. The noise from the stadium completely drowned out their quiet words.

So what am I supposed to do while they're having a confidential conversation without me? I feel very left out. I should do something exciting, so that I don't feel left out. I could look at people's noses. Wow, look at that kid's nose. Now that is sweet, I've never seen one with that kind of curve to it. Ok, this is boring. Umm … I know; I'll go back to that list of ways to kill that annoying announcer boy.

Top 10 Way To Kill That Squirrelly Announcer Boy Without Anyone Suspecting I Was The One Who Did It

1. Hire someone else to do it (but where's the personal satisfaction of a job well done in that?)

2. Poison in his drink (very classy, but where to brew it and where to find the ingredients; rather hard to sort out)

3. Anti-freeze in his drink (oh now that is clever, no one would ever know, but I'd have to wait until I went back home to pick some up at the store)

4. Broom accident (or so it would seem)

5. Dig his heart out with a rusty spoon (the rust being for purely malicious reasons (might be too easy to trace to me))

6. Scare him to death (heh heh heh, now that could be fun)

7. Accidental drowning (does he know how to swim, though?)

8. Stealing Godric Gryffindor's sword from Dumbledore's office and conveniently arranging for him to trip and fall on it (stealing from Dumbledore could be difficult)

9. Arranging for him to catch a dreaded disease (like the plague) and consequently die (intriguing, but the dreaded disease might be curable these days)

10. The Dementor's Kiss (one word: Sweet)

Now, that was fun and exciting. I bet James and Sirius are sad they missed out on that one. They don't appear to have noticed they're missing out and they're still whispering intently without me. Stupid boys.

I looked down at the game. I think Gryffindor is losing something awful (any sort of losing is just awful, this is Slytherin after all!). James better just hurry up and get this snitch before I go completely bonkers, lose my temper and have to go do something hen-witted like offer to let Mr. Hulk get it out just to make James jealous enough that he'll come and do the job himself.

I watched as someone nearly got knocked off their broom by a bludger. The Gryffindor fans seem to be quite upset with James and Sirius (not that I blame them, I'd be upset too except that I'm kind of too upset to be properly upset right now).

"James, that's ridiculous!" I froze. Oh my gods, at this exact spot I can hear what James and Sirius are whispering. Merlin, this is awesome! I moved my head a bit to the left, nothing, back to the center, "your reasoning is flawed," a bit to the right, nothing, back to the center, "it's not like this should be hard." Have I mentioned this is awesome? I wonder what James is going to say.

"Sirius, this is the woman I love (HE LOVES ME! I LOVE CONFIRMTIONS!), and I'm not going to be groping her in public before I've done it in private! Hell, even then I'm not going to …"

"That doesn't make sense!" Sirius interrupted.

"Oh, so I'm just supposed to let people watch me feel up _my _girl. I don't think so. She's either mine and mine alone or nothing." Wow, he's a possessive bloke. Not that I mind as long as the same rule applies to him.

"For Merlin's sake, James, you've just got to get the snitch! If you don't we lose!"

"Well, actually we can't lose until someone catches it."

"Oh, so you're going to let Bryson reach down _your_ girl's shirt?"

My point exactly, Sirius really does have more sense than most people give him credit for.

I screamed as a bludger _whooshed_ by my head. James practically dove at me and swept me away from where the bludger had been (so really it didn't do anyone much good, although, it might have made him feel like he was doing something constructive, which would be good for him I suppose). Sirius raced after the bludger and whacked it in the direction of the Slytherin chaser with the quaffle; the Gryffindors roared as the bludger nearly took the chaser's head off. Sirius is really too good at what he does. His aim is impeccable. He really could kill us all. Thank the gods he's not an assassin.

"James," I whispered quietly in his ear from where he had me crushed in his arms, "Please, just get the snitch."

He pulled away from me like touching me was burning him. I'm feeling kind of insulted now. I mean, I won't be letting him "feel me up" even if we do start going out. Nope, he can just keep his hands to himself. If I'm not good enough, that's just fine with me.

"James, just get the snitch out of my shirt, it's not that big of a deal."

He shook his head frantically. Alright, the boy has problems, it's official.

Sirius flew over and looked at us. I transferred my intimidating glare from James to him. "For gods sake, James, just do as the lady says so we can end this!"

James kept shaking his head frantically. Maybe his head's stuck on repeat and he really means yes. I helpfully pulled the collar of my shirt out a bit. James recoiled nearly off the end of the broom. Sirius had to fly around behind him and shove him back on.

"James, just get the snitch!" I cried. I don't get it. I don't get it. Why won't he just get this filthy piece of metal out of my bra! Doesn't he realize how uncomfortable I am? I've put up with his antics long enough.

"It looks like the drama is continuing up in the sky's folks. Who knows when Potter and Black will be rejoining the game. Luckily for them it doesn't appear that Bryson is having any luck finding the snitch, but that will only last so long."

"James, look, the likelihood of you _ever_ and I mean **_ever_**," (well with the notable exception of when, I mean if, (if) we're married and then, well … maybe not even then), "Being **TOLD**, as in **ORDERED**, to stick your hand down my shirt is slim to none," (please note the same disclaimer about the "let's spend our lives together gig" also applies here), "in fact, just none, zero," (see disclaimer), "so stop being such a gentleman and do it!"

James doesn't seem to be taking this very well. Do you think he might have been petrified or something? Is the idea that horrifying to him? But about what I heard earlier … maybe he just didn't want to admit that he doesn't find me attractive to Sirius. Although, that doesn't make mush sense because if there was anyone he would admit it to, it would be Sirius. And it's not like he has a problem kissing me senseless (and sure this is a little bit different, but it's not like he's going to _do_ anything (because if he even tries I'll force rat poison down his throat and dig _his_ heart out with a rust spoon instead of that announcer's)).

Does Sirius have to keep smiling like that? I mean, is anyone else disturbed by the crazy eyebrow wiggles he's giving James? Not to mention I don't think they're doing James any good. I'm just saying I want to get this over with for the sake of everyone's sanity!

James hesitantly reached his hand out toward me. He's so dumb. He's not near close enough to reach the snitch. I slid myself a little closer to him very slowly, so I wouldn't spook him into trying to jump off of the broom again.

He literally jumped as his hand hit my collarbone. I smiled nicely at him. The poor boy doesn't seem to be able to get enough air. Maybe we should be hooking him up to a respirator. He ran his thumb along the collar of my shirt. Maybe he doesn't realize that the snitch is under my shirt. Should I tell him or would that cause a panic attack? I think I'll hold off, we are making progress after all. Before you know it I'll have this snitch out of my shirt, just you wait.

"Lily," he whispered, leaning closer to me. Heck yeah, I think we're making progress. I mean, check it out, he moved toward me instead of away!

"Yes," I whispered back.

"I just … I want you to know that what I said … in the common room last night … I …" His fingers slipped gently under my collar.

I absolutely can't move. If I spook him now I'll feel dumb. I want this snitch out NOW! And after that whole mess is taken care of I hope he says "I love you" and then I can say "I love you" and then he can give me a nice magnetic kiss. I like magnet-y kisses.

"So you've decided to feel up your mudblood instead of search for the snitch, is that it, Potter?"

Note to self: Next time someone sneaks up on you and says mean things, don't jump in surprise before checking that you have somewhere to land.

Note to self (take 2): I owe Sirius my life (again), must pay him back sometime.

Bryson deserves to be kicked. But I do have so smashing news. The snitch is no longer in my shirt. I actually knocked into James' broom as I flipped over it and out that ol' snitch-y boy popped. It was brilliant. I feel so much better.

Now this is actually rather enjoyable, I get to sit from the safety of Sirius' broom and watch James and Bryson race after the snitch. Isn't James cute? He's just so kissable. I want a kiss.

"Potter, Potter, **Potter, **POTTER,** POTTER**!" I joined the shouts coming from the Gryffindor stands, apparently all thoughts of their previous anger forgotten in the thrill of the chase.

"They're neck in neck, but Potter has the definite edge, it almost looks like Bryson can't even see the snitch, but is simply following Potter. They're rounding the Slytherin goal posts and heading back to the center of the field and … Merlin, they just took one heck of an upward turn and it doesn't like they're coming down. I can barely see them now."

I felt a tendril of panic and unthinkingly grabbed Sirius' arm.

"Uh … don't worry. He does this all of the time," Sirius said awkwardly, while attempting a reassuring pat on my arm.

"They're coming down. Who's in front? I can't even make out the robe color. Wait … it's Potter and, yes, YES, he's got the snitch!"

**ooo…ooo**

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you have some free time feel absolutely free to review.

Apologies for not updating sooner, but I've been so busy it's crazy. I hope the extra long chapter makes up for it.

Thanks and Hugs to all reviewers!

Since no one complained, I'm going to stick with responding to reviews with that new "reply" button.

Merry Christmas!


	17. In Which Lily has a Nice Ramble

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 17: In Which Lily has a Nice Ramble

or

In Which Lily is Nearly Squashed by Group of Fan Girls

**ooo…ooo**

"Gryffindor WINS! A close match to the very end, but Gryffindor nabbed the win. The final score, 270 -170 Gryffindor, a decent margin considering the loss of players and the puzzling behavior of their two star players."

"We WON!" I screamed, wringing Sirius around the neck in a hug.

"HELL YES!" Sirius screamed back, and gave me an exuberant kiss on the cheek.

"Hands, and other things, to yourself, mister!" I scolded, grinning like an idiot (I can't help it, though; we WON!). Sirius winked at me and then proceeded to do some sort of crazy barrel role, during which I completely had my hands all over him (not like that, get your minds out of the gutter people, I was holding on to his shoulder/waist to keep myself from falling off and dying that pancake death I've been so close to so many times today).

James dove by us, holding the snitch high over his head and took a turn over the crowd, which went wild and began pouring out of the stands onto the pitch. James flew to the center of the pitch and was met in the air by the remaining two chasers, who proceeded to jump on him like they had some sort of death wish that involved falling from heights. They were then joined by the other beater and the keeper, who hopped into the death wish party as well.

Wait … why are we moving toward them?

Oh no! Oh NO! I don't do dog piles, period. But most especially of all I don't do dog piles 20 freaking feet off of the ground. NO, NO, NO. That's final. If only I were steering, directing, or whatever it is you do to get the broom to do what you want (there's a reason I don't play Quidditch, and I would have failed introduction to flying if it had been graded).

"Sirius," I said quietly, "Could we not …"

Sigh, I'm going to die, but I've just become resigned to it by this point. I don't even think I'm sitting on a broom anymore.

Who decided that mid-air dog piles were a good idea? Because I'm going to kill them. This is the _worst _idea … ever! I'm going to lose my grip on Sirius' hair and whosever arm I've got a hold on and I'll fall to my death. I will come back and haunt Sirius, though.

Who would ever want to do this repeatedly? I think these people (Quidditch players) might have some serious mental issues that cause them to seek out creative ways in which to die in broom accidents. I also think my eardrums have burst from all the crowd noise. I swear it doesn't sound this loud when you're on the ground.

"The Gryffindor team is having their usual team celebration up in the air and Black even took the girl with the apricot colored hair along with him. I don't know many people who wouldn't kill to be in her position right now hearing one of Potter's infamous 'end of game' talks!"

Ok, I think he might have been trying to compliment me … perhaps, in an odd, not very well executed sort of way. Still … apricot? I don't think so. Apricot … Do I look like a walking food bowl to anyone else? I sometimes wonder if I'm alone in this world.

"It was a though game, guys, but we pulled it out. I owe you one for sticking with me and I **swear** I won't let you down like that again. Alright, go celebrate, but be in the changing rooms in 15 minutes. Good job everyone!"

He's so passionate. I wish he would talk to me like that. _Sigh_. I wish I could be as wonderful as Quidditch (in his opinion (in my opinion I'm 20 million times better)).

Everyone in our little dog pile let out an earsplitting roar that most certainly ruptured what was left of my eardrums and began to break off.

Shi … shimmery butterfly wings! I just lost one of my handholds. I am compensating by grasping Sirius' hair even harder.

"Lily, you can let go of my hair now," Sirius said hesitantly.

I pried open my eyes and saw that we were safely settled on his broom. We aren't dead! And I'm not deaf! Score! This hasn't turned out badly after all. I just have a mortal fear of snitches and I actually know that I don't want to become a pancake and my future boyfriend (if I can ever pin him down and get a "let's go to Hogsmeade" out of him (or I could ask him myself. I am a strong female after all (and when we get married he can change _his_ last name (James Evans … butt monkeys … that sounds terrible) Alright, so I'll change my last name, but I'll still be pro-feminist (Lily Potter … dude, that sounds so good))) has abandoned me with his best friend, which can never be a good thing. Mr. 'Oh So Noble' could have at least given me a ride to the ground so I could see him before he was engulfed by adoring fans (of which there are many).

I'm feeling hurt. Maybe I don't want to go out with him after all. Maybe I should go curl up in a corner and cry and eat lots of chocolate. Drat, he's already messing up my self-esteem and we aren't even going out! Lord knows how we'll manage when we're married. We're going to be one messed up little couple. And our children … _shudder_ … those poor dears. Maybe finding a live-in counselor wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe I could become a counselor … that could work.

Oh, bugger that, we'll just drive each other nuts and be blissfully happy about it. Of course there is the slight problem of us not actually being married … or engaged … or even going out to deal with.

Sirius spotted Ally and we (since I didn't have much choice in not going with him) headed toward her. As soon as we got near the ground Sirius hoped off of the broom in mid-air, leaving me to flounder (graceful floundering, of course) around and end up lying flat on my face before managing to scramble up to my feet, after which I had to fight a first year for Sirius' broom (come on people, this isn't baseball, you can't keep the balls (even if you catch them) and the same goes for brooms).

I finally made it back to find Sirius spinning Ally around and kissing her rather avidly. Oh goody, now I'm depressed. How come I don't have a boyfriend to swing me off my feet after Quidditch games? I poked Black with his broom and he turned around, looking rather annoyed at being interrupted from his declarations of how much Ally meant to him and how worried he'd been that the bludger would hit her. It was sickeningly adorable. Excuse me while I go throw up all the food I've eaten lately (which has actually been nothing, but I'd sure go for a chocolate frog or some chocolate cake or a chocolate chip cookie or some chocolate ice cream or … I'd just like some chocolate, ok? Is that too much to ask? All I've had is that vile potion which was completely useless since James isn't anywhere to be seen and instead I have to try and give the boy declaring his undying devotion to my best friend his broom. Why!).

Sirius took his broom and turned back to Ally leaving me with literally nothing to do whatsoever since now I can't even hold his broom so I feel like I'm useful (even if I'm not).

Oh, bother, I might as well just go back to the Hospital Wing at this point and mope about. I can tell Madam Jeffries about it and then we can commiserate about dumb men and lost loves, it'll be exciting. Oh Gods Drunken Fruitful Apples! I told Jeffries I wouldn't let anyone see me and _everyone_ saw me! Sh … schnapps ginger ale!

I'm a failure! I didn't even manage to accomplish anything! And it's not even my fault. It's all that … that … commitment phobic, jelly snorting, apple fritter eating, magnetic kissing, necking, terribly good looking, seeker-ing James Potter! I hate him. Where is he? I'm going to go find that jumped up little seeker. He thinks he's so good. Well that's fine with me and if I'm not good enough, that's fine, but he's going to have one heck of a broken … well, bruised … nose when I'm done with him. Oh bugger that, I'll just curse him.

I pushed through the fans until I spotted a cluster of what appeared to be screaming fan girls and knew I'd found James (after all, who else would have a cluster of screaming fan girls except for him?). Using my inherent female powers, I sidled, fought, pranced, skipped, ducked, and shoved my way through the crowd to James, who was about to dive into the locker room.

He looks a bit … hunted. I would feel bad for him, but clearly he deserves it since he's a no good person (if he were a good person he'd ask me out and kiss me senseless … and he clearly hasn't done that). So I stopped and smirked, feeling quite content to sit back and watch James be harassed by the little fan girls. Hehe, this is making me feel better already. Who knew I took so much pleasure in watching other people's discomfort?

"That's nice … hands! Hands to yourself! … I've really got to go … oh, well thank you … yeah, right back at you … sorry, I don't date first years … ahhh, personal bubble, personal bubble …"

Gods, this is better than a sport. I would pay good money to see this (but luckily I don't have to since I don't actually have any money on me (or period since I like to make it a point to be broke, so I can't be tempted to spend any money)).

"No, really, I'm not interested … please, keep that to yourself … no, no, no you're a lovely girl, it's just I already have a girl … no, we aren't going out … I'm planning on asking her … well, she's closer to my age for starters … yes, gorgeous …"

Who in the world is he talking about? Is it me? Oh my gods! I bet it's me! He's planning to ask me out! Ahhh … he likes me (well, I kind of knew that, but I'm astonishingly insecure and need all sorts of reassurance)!

Wait … what if it's not me. Oh dear, I can't let myself get excited and expect things. Hmm … let's see … I know! I'll just get out from behind him and let him see me and if he sweeps me off of my feet in a romantic fashion it's me and if not … I'll break his sorry nose. I inched by a girl with long swinging pigtails and ended up getting shoved by a little witch (with a capital B) and sprawling onto the ground at James' feet.

Oh gods, can you imagine how this is going to look? I just fell at his feet! My life is a laughing stock! Darn you gods of luck! Why do you only seem to favor me when I'm about to die a grizzly death (not that I don't appreciate that, but couldn't you hang out at other times too?)! Maybe I'll just lie here and never get up and the world will just go on without me and I won't have to deal with any of the humiliating things that generally seem to exist in my life … _all_ of them time.

"Lily! Are you alright?" I was surprised to be physically dragged up to my feet by some very large comforting hands that obviously belong to the only fellow I know with large comforting hands (hint hint James). I looked at him in surprise for a few seconds before Emerson got the door to the locker room open, after having to physically shove back all of the fans pressing up against it. Most of the team darted in (Sirius not among them, obviously he's occupied elsewhere), but James hesitated. He still had a grip on my arm from hauling me up and he did a sort of back and forth look between the locker room and me. I sighed, closing my eyes. I guess I will just go back to the hospital wing and pout and fruitlessly hope that he's going to show up and we'll get married (although obviously not in that exact chronology of events, there will be some things in between).

_Whoosh_!

What the heck? Why's it so quiet?

"I thought significant others weren't allowed in the locker room, captain."

I opened my eyes to see that I was located in locker room (kind of obvious from what Emerson just said). _The_ locker room. What am I doing in here? I'm not supposed to be in here. Did I subconsciously follow James? Oh sh … shepherd's hooks! I'm never going to live this down. He's so going to know I fancy him to death (which could be a good thing if he turns to me in the next three seconds and says, "Lily, my love, marry me!"). One, two, three … rats. I was actually rather hoping that would work.

"Well, I am the captain and I couldn't just leave her out there in that mess, now could I?"

Wait … what? He just said that he brought me in. Dude, that so explains it! I'm not nuts! I'm not living in the magical world of "Mary had a Little Lamb" where Mary is a guy named James and the lamb is a girl named Lily and she follows him everywhere he goes. Thank the good, gracious, merciful, Mary hating (not that Mary's are bad, just the ones in the magical world I don't live in!), beautificious, and charming **GODS**!

Merlin's socks, I was so preoccupied with the fact I'm not insane I completely almost missed the fact that _James_ brought _me _into the locker room with _him. _ That has to be a good thing. He didn't want to leave me! Isn't that romantic? He cares about what happens to me!

"Wait, you two are going out, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that explains why you nearly lost us the game."

"Wow, next time we'll stick her in a steel box or something."

"Nearly gave me a heart attack, let me tell you!"

Oh no, we're not going out! This is so embarrassing! At least they aren't asking about the whole snitch thing. I can't tell you have eternally grateful I am that … someone, who knows who … managed to keep that whole fiasco away from that announcer's attention. I think I'm even going to risk being grateful for that, wait, where's Black? Oh cookie crumbs, I can't be grateful yet until he's here and there's no chance whatsoever that he'll tell that … that … gremlin faced, large mouthed, terribly talkative announcer, so that he can embarrass me for the rest of my life (which will be quite short if I die of embarrassment).

"I am sorry about that, but …"

"No, no, it's understandable."

"Completely."

"Yeah, can't let a pretty girl like that get crushed," Emerson said, winking at me.

I finger waved back. These people are creeping me out. I like watching Quidditch players from a distance, but this close proximity is not so good.

"Geez, Potter, you have all the luck with girls. I want a girlfriend like that," the beater, Brinkley, said in awe.

I'm feeling very desirable to be sure, but I'm slightly worried that if I point out I'm not Potter's girlfriend the beater will jump me or something.

_What_ is Potter doing? He just wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me up against his side. First off, he's sweaty, but second off, that action severely smacks of going out behavior.

"Yeah, I do, don't I?" James smiled at me, while I stared back in a sort of deer in the headlights way.

Did I miss something? What if I have amnesia or short-term memory loss and we're already going out and I've forgotten all about it. Holy rolly polly, that would be so weird (in a totally sweet way)! He's leaning in, as in leaning in; have I mentioned he's leaning in? If I haven't forgotten (which is unlikely, let me tell you) this is just what it looks like before he kisses me.

Oh my great galloping gods, HE'S GOING TO KISS ME! He loves me! He wants to go out with and have lots of sticky little children with me! Score! I leaned in too, closing my eyes, and felt his lips hit my cheek.

My **cheek**. What am I his sister? That's a kiss for your Great Aunt Bertha, not your bloody wife-to-be (or girlfriend-to-be or whatever-I-should-be to him). I'm so going to break his nose!

"Kissing in the locker rooms; I'm scandalized!"

Ah, charming, Sirius has arrived.

"I expected better of you captain, my captain. You should have told _me_ it was 'bring your girlfriend to the wrap-up talk' day! I'd have brought Ally!"

"Sorry, mate, but I just brought her in to rescue her from the crowd," James said, with a shrug that said, 'what can you do?'

"_Riiight,_" Sirius said, winking in a rather lewd fashion at me.

I shot Sirius a dirty look. I'm having such a bad day and I'm starting to think killing him would make it a lot better. The only problem, of course, being that he's saved my life twice today, so I kind of owe him. Alright, so I won't kill him this time and one of those debts will be repaid. Awesome! If he keeps of his usual level of annoyingness then I'll be out of debt in the next 5 minutes and I'll be able to kill him before dinner.

"Ok, since everyone's here, lets circle up and make this a quick talk so we can get to the victory party."

I watched as everyone moved to circle up around James. I tried to back away, out of the circle, but James kept a firm grip on my waist. I poked him in the side and he squinched up and let out a breathy laugh.

"Don't do that, love, I'm trying to be dignified," he said, getting a laugh out of everyone.

Love? Love … as in I'm his love. I wonder how many times I can think love in one minute. Dude … 63, that's pretty good. I looked around the circle at everyone. They don't seem to think it's odd I'm here. Why is that? Maybe James brings in girls a lot. Or maybe he talks about me a lot, so they're glad I'm here to shut him up. Ok, scratch that one. That's completely ludicrous.

"So practice on Tuesday, 6:00 sharp. Now go have fun, but no fire whiskey! Are you listening, Brinkley? Don't smirk; I'm serious. No, no, not you, Sirius. I'm very firmly set against spiking the butterbeer; do you understand? I don't want to bench my best beater, besides you Sirius, for crying out loud, for getting first years drunk, ok? Good, I'll see you guys there in a bit."

Everyone broke out of the circle, heading to lockers and grabbing their stuff, ready to get out. Emerson and Sirius headed to the showers, but everyone else simply left. James just stood in the same place, watching them go and still holding me firmly to his side. Once the locker room proper was empty, he let go and I reflexively stepped away. I mean, that was a bit 'Invasion of the personal bubble by the really hot man.' Not that I was objecting, but still my personal bubble was feeling a bit … uncomfortable (and upset about that kissing thing, it doesn't like being rejected!).

"Listen, Lily," he started, but I cut him off.

"No, you listen, James. I'm sick and tired of you being all confusing and stuff. First you're like, "Oh let me kiss you all of the time, anytime, anywhere," then you're, "oh, I'm going to ignore you," then you go on the, "oh, let me rescue you instead of catching the snitch so you can pretend you're my true love," kick, then you decide, "I'm not sticking my hand down your shirt," and then you let your Quidditch team think we're going out. From what I can see you've been nothing but an … an … an asinine, butt face to me. You've completely flipped, flopped, floundered, and buggered up all of my feelings. I have no idea what you want from me! All I know is that I want you, well, you in the sense that I want you to be my boyfriend and be the father of our 8 children, not like my personal love slave, but I probably wouldn't say no to that either. I don't think that's too much to ask, love slave thing excluded, of course! I mean, a straight answer one way or the other would be nice. Just because a girl is helplessly in love with you and all your vexing wonderfulness doesn't give you a right to ignore me …"

Umm … I think I might have been rambling. Finally my speaking brake caught (rather like a parking brake), but it's rather too late though. I've made such a fool of myself. Why, oh why, must I blush so much (and talk so much)? Red is so not my color. It just doesn't go with my hair. Why can't the blushing and the hair be the same shade of red? That would make so much more sense. I can't be the only one who sees that!

"You … you want to have ei … eight kids with me?"

Oh sh … shells! I really really need to get this rambling problem fixed because I know I shouldn't have said that … EVER!

Ok, big choice here. Truth, or not truth (aka lies).

Scenario A: "Yes, James, I want to have at least eight, preferably 10 or 12 kids with you." James faints and/or runs away.

Scenario B: "I never said that. I said I want to have snake kids as a pets." James nods in confusion, but doesn't leave at top speed.

Oh that's useless; I'm in over my head as it is. I might as well lay all of my cards on the table.

"I … I did." At least I left out the bit about 12 kids.

"With me?"

"No, with the boogey man," I mumbled.

"Oh, Lily, I … I … well, I love you too. And I'd quite like to have 8 kids with you as well and perhaps we could arrange something for the love slave thing, but you'd have to be my love slave too." My head shot up in shock. Did he just say what I think he said? I think he just said what I think he said. OH MY GODS! We're going to have 8 mini-Potters and mini-Evans'! And I'm going to have a love slave! Wow … a love slave. Dude, Ally's going to be so jealous!

"I know I've been doing some dumb things, but I thought … I thought you didn't like me and I know that's not a particularly good excuse, but I was actually in quite a spectacular moping groove and I didn't want to break out for fear that the next groove would be even worse …"

I reached up, grabbed the collar of his Quidditch robe and pulled him down to me for a kiss. I melted into him, as he brought his hands up to pull me closer to him. I think I'm in love. Oh, fine, I admit it, I'm so in love, there's no thinking involved. I'll even skip giving him the broken nose, but only because he's such a nice kisser. This kiss is a bit different than our others, though. I wonder if that's because I know he loves me or because I know I love him. There's just something more … tender, long-term, forever, and ever and ever about this kiss. I like it!

Heck, if I'd known love could make kissing this much better I'd not only have started kissing sooner, I'd have started falling in love sooner!

**ooo…ooo**

Hope you enjoyed reading! A review is always loved and appreciated, but not if your in the midst of a life changing ramble.

Sorry about taking so long to update, but I'm in the midst of exams currently and was in the midst of studying for exams. I'm a wee bit swamped, so the next update will be … sometimes. I'm afraid I can't be more definite than that. I think the next chapter might also be the last, but there might be one more. _Sigh. _My mind is one crazed place.

Best Beta Ever - Daystar


	18. In Which Lily is in Love

It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter 18: In Which Lily is in Love

Or

In Which Some of the Craziness Might Just Begin to Make Sense

**ooo…ooo**

I have officially (as in, legitimately (as in, not just in my mind (as in, I'm not INSANE, so there!))) been going out with the one, the only James Tristan Potter (and the man of all my dreams (well, all one of them. I mean, I've only had so long to dream what with all this late night discovery of feelings and whatnot, but I'm sure they'll be plenty more to come)) since noon yesterday, which adds up to a grand total of 19 hours, 12 minutes, and 34 seconds.

35 seconds.

36 seconds.

37 seconds.

Ok, ok, you get the point. I really have to stop zoning out and doing that. It can't be good for me, especially at seven in the morning on a Sunday. A _Sunday_! Oh the blasphemy of not sleeping in on such a day. I just can't, though, sleeping requires a certain mental state that I'm just not in (nor can I be expected to be in) because … I'm going out with James Potter! Going out! I just want to go bounce around and in general make one heck of a nuisance of myself!

And then reality intrudes … blast reality and all its stupid real-ness.

Why am I trapped in the Hospital Wing? _Sigh_. I suppose it's slightly my fault (ok, completely, but I'm not going to admit that, admitting things doesn't fit with my image, I have a reputation to protect after all).

So after James and I wrapped up out locker room "I love you" session (have I mentioned how awesome that was in the past 10 minutes? No? Well, I'd better, just for good measure and all. It was AWESOME!) and we were heading toward the victory party, when who should we meet but my _favorite_ gang of teachers (aka Dumbledore, Vittles, McGonagall, and Madam Jeffries).

Madam Jeffries shot me a wink and a shrug, so it was kind of obvious she'd told the others I'd "escaped" or something of that sort. I suppose I deserved that since I had promised I wouldn't be seen and … I kind of was (stupid snitch!).

So they were all standing about, glaring with their arms crossed. I shot Vittles a very nasty glare since he's not a very nice person right now in my book, but I don't think he noticed. People really ought to notice when you're glaring maliciously at them; isn't that only polite?

But I suppose that's not the point of this little story. So they were being all imposing and "Thou shall not pass" –ish. In response to this, in a very logical fashion, James and I stopped (his hand was around my waist, in case you were wondering, which you probably weren't, but I can't help telling everyone everything remotely cute that James has done since he is my boyfriend and not yours and you should just be sad about that since he's amazing and he's all mine. After all, we've been going out for 19 hours, 20 minutes, and 52 seconds. 53 seconds. 54 … oh, buggers, I'm doing it again. I really really have to stop. This time I'm serious. No more obsession (well, no more really weird obsession)).

So we stopped and Dumbledore just sort of looked at me with that "I _know_ you did not just sneak out of the hospital wing" look, but unfortunately, the effect was ruined by the fact that I had.

"James, Miss Evans," he said, with a polite nod at each of us.

I inched closer to James; he is after all big and strong and might be able to save me if someone tries to kill me. I could, of course, save myself, but it's really awful hard to inch closer to oneself for protection (as in impossible) and if I'd tried I'd probably have looked nuts and since that's why I'm being glared at I'd rather not give any blatant evidence. So I was basically _forced_ to go for the next best alternative (aka James, and let me say, it wasn't _that_ much of a sacrifice).

"Miss Evans," McGonagall said, "Shouldn't you be in the hospital wing?"

"Probably, ma'am," I agreed amiably. I was feeling much too happy/ecstatic/James Potter's my boyfriend to really care if I was about to be in a small spot of trouble.

"It was dangerous for you to sneak out of the hospital wing while possessed, Miss Evans, you could have caused yourself or others injury," Vittles said, being all vittles-y (as in, stupid and vile).

"I'm not possessed, Professor!" Is that getting old to anyone else? "Really, this whole thing is one giant case of mistaken communication, between myself and the world at large, that isn't my fault at all. In fact, if I had to blame someone, it'd clearly be James' fault. I mean, if he hadn't made me fall in love with him, I obviously wouldn't have thought I was going nuts and I'd never have gone to see Madam Jeffries! Honestly, who wouldn't think they were nuts if they woke up one morning and thought, "Gee whiz, I'm in love with Potter today"? You'd have sought medical attention as well."

"So, all your fault," I said, poking James in the chest. He looked a bit stunned to say the least. "I don't blame you at all, though. In fact, I'm rather more inclined to thank you, even though I really did think I was going nuts. But then it finally hit me; I was just in love, which I suppose is a form of insanity, but frankly, if I have to be insane, it's the sort of insane I'd like to be."

"Wait, you went and told Madam Jeffries you were possessed because you love me?"

I think my logic confused poor Jamesie; he's so adorable when he's confused.

"I didn't _tell_ her I was possessed!" I eyed Madam Jeffries, who had just made my bad list for spreading untruths about me.

"Pardon me?" Professor McGonagall said, clearly asking for clarification.

"I didn't say I was possessed, I told her there were voices in my head, which were telling me to kiss James and talking about how wonderful he was and his charming masculine jaw line and the depths of his dazzlingly hazel eyes and ... excuse me, sorry; I got carried away there … anyway, I didn't get it at the time. I was, on the whole, simply being rather dense."

I smiled at James, who smiled back, but still looked rather confused. What can I say, I'm just a confuzzling person.

"It was rather confusing, wasn't it?" I prodded.

"Yeah," he smiled and grabbed one of my hands, "It was. I had no idea what was going on."

"Just like a broom crash," I said, smirking a bit as he leaned his forehead down to rest on mine.

"Ahem!" Stupid teachers, always interrupting good things, they must have been beaten as children.

"Whatever the circumstances, Miss Evans, your place is still in the Hospital Wing, so I must ask that you accompany Madam Jeffries and myself there immediately," Professor Dumbledore said.

James inched closer to me, so we were basically glued together. I have no objections, of course, unless there really is glue involved. No offense to the man of my dreams and whatnot, but while I love him to death, I'm not spending the rest of my life permanently glued to his side. Love is all well and good, but moderation is necessary so that you don't go nutters. Look at me, all philosophical and I've only had a steady boyfriend for 19 hours, 31 minutes, and 10 seconds.

11 seconds.

12 seconds.

13 … rats!

Well, it could be worse. At least I'm not counting the nanoseconds. I mean, I could count them, but then by the time I'd said them I'd be wrong, so I'm probably best off sticking to seconds. Although, if I spoke really fast … bad, Lily, bad, you will not count the nanoseconds you've been going out with James. I have to watch that. It's just so tempting.

Back to the tragedy of my story.

So Dumbledore, who has appointed himself in charge of ruining my life, says, "I'm afraid you'll have to return to your common room, James. Miss Evans will be fine without you."

And he was wrong! I was not fine! We missed out on so much, "we just got together" smug bliss, it's practically criminal. Not being one to take no for an answer, I latched on to James' arm and tried my best to look pitiful. You'd think that would work, but no.

So off I went to the hospital wing to mope about in a miserable fashion all by myself, while James went off to celebrate in the common room with everyone else! Life is clearly unfair.

But James obviously wasn't having such a great time at the party anyway because he snuck into the Hospital Wing to see me! It was so cute of him. It nearly scared me to death at the time, of course, but now, looking back, I am much more calm about the matter. That nervous twitch is simply a figment of your imagination; no really, it is.

I mean, come on, who sneaks up behind someone to 'surprise' them and starts off by putting their hands over their eyes? Yeah, that's what I thought, only the psycho murderers! Is a simple, "hey" or "hello" or "Fair Lily, love of my life" too much to ask? _Sigh_, my life has so many trials.

It took me a bit to recover from my near murder experience, which James (the git (but a very nice and attractive one, so I forgive him)) apparently found quite amusing. I was not quite as amused as him, can't for the life of me think why (in case you were wondering that was the sarcasm).

Anyway, he brought me a piece of some cake from the victory party. I'm slightly worried that bringing me food is becoming a repetitive action.

I can't quite tell if:

a. He thinks I'm too thin

b. He's trying to fatten me for some malicious reason like cannibalism

c. He finds food to be the best medium for communication

d. There is no reason and I'm just overanalyzing

If it's 'c' I'm so screwed; I'll be a tub of lard by the end of the month and I'm not going to go into 'b' since that's just wrong and rest assured, people of the world, the day I am too thin is the day Remus Lupin hops on the table in the Great Hall and starts stripping (while some people would enjoy that, I can't help but feeling it will never happen (as in, it's impossible). I bet he wouldn't even do it if he was under the Imperius Curse. He'd just pass out from the impropriety of it all before he even got the chance to start) so 'a' is out, and I never overanalyze (really!) so it's not 'd'. Buggers, I've eliminated everything. I hate multiple-choice.

So I ate the cake in spite of my suspicions of his motives (who would refuse cake anyway? Cake, yum). Then we talked and did a tad bit of kissing. I mean, you just can't do_ too_ much kissing in the hospital wing. Besides, we've already done that once and you don't want to make a habit of such things.

We did clear the air really well, though. We even touched a bit on the rocky beginning of our … ahem … relations (aka senseless kissing).

Alas, all good things must come to an end and end they did. Madam Jeffries came in and James had to escape before she saw him. So I haven't seen him for 9 hours, 40 minutes, and I'm not actually sure how many seconds (blasphemy, I know, but I was so pre-occupied with the wrenching loss of his presence I didn't think of marking down the seconds).

Do I hear sounds? Is that the pitter-patter of size 8 stilettos (aka, Madam Jeffries)? Indeed it is! How exciting, my first visitor of this fine and beauteous day. I may have taken one too many imaginary happy pills. _Happy sigh_.

"Good morning, Madam Jeffries!" I said, in a delightfully chipper manner.

"You seem wide awake, Miss Evans."

"I couldn't sleep."

"Thinking about someone in particular?" Jeffries teased with a wink, pouring me some more nasty potion. I hate the nasty potion! Why must it be so plentiful?

"Me? _Never,_" I replied.

"I am sorry that I had to rat you out to the Professors," she said while I made my mandatory faces about drinking the potion (luckily she doesn't know that my taste buds have been burned off by the previous doses and I can't even taste it anymore (now it's simply the principal of the thing. Nasty potion, _shudder_)), "but it was rather obvious you'd … "escaped" what with you being in the middle of the game and all."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't mean to be seen, that was a bit of an accident. But still, it all turned out well in the end, didn't it? I got my man." MY MAN! So many good things to say, so little time to say them (you know, only a whole life time).

"Indeed you did," Madam Jeffries agreed, while taking my pulse.

"Well, that's that, Lily. You're free to go."

"_What_? I can go? As in leave?" This is unexpected. Is it April first; is she pulling my leg? I won't fall for it; I won't!

"Yes," Jeffries said with a smile, "And let me also apologize about the misunderstanding about you being possessed. You really did sound like you were, though, darling."

"Don't worry about it," I said, practically leaping out of bed and heading for the door (I'm not falling for it, though. I'm simply … playing along). If I hurry I can go grab a shower, change, and then go eat breakfast with James!

I hurried through the halls and to the Gryffindor tower. I fought my way through the crowded common room (apparently the victory party was still in full swing) and up the stairs to my dorm. Ally was inside and she looked up as I came in.

"Hey, girl, who let you out of captivity? Or did you escape _again_?"

"I have been released," I announced with a sweeping gesture, "I am as free as a goldfish in an ocean."

Ally laughed, "I hate to break it to you, Lily, but that made no sense at all."

"It's the thought that counts in the end," I told her, "So, Ally, I don't suppose you talked with …"

"James," She said, cutting me off. Am I that transparent? Oh, probably.

"Yes, I did speak with him. He is my boyfriend's best friend after all. Actually," she said, looking thoughtful, "I didn't really speak much. I more listened to him list your many virtues. I frankly had no idea you possessed so many."

"Hey!" I said indignantly.

Ally smiled and we both laughed.

"We'll have to plan a girls only day and kick those two idiots out for a while. It feels like we never have time for each other anymore." Ally said, looking at me seriously.

"Well you started it with Sirius, doll face, so don't point any fingers at me. I was all up for spending time with you, but you were too busy with secret 'French lessons.' At least I'm not keeping it a secret," I said with a glare. I still can't believe she did that! Ugh, I shall be offended later.

"You couldn't keep it a secret even if you wanted to; James would be so obvious about it that everyone would know in an instant."

I rolled my eyes. James is rather obvious, but so am I. We're in love, so sue us. We have the gods given right to be as obvious and mushy as we want. Someone should add that to the Rights of Man (and Woman (we count too, you sorry chauvinistic pigs!)).

"So will you be joining me and the boys for breakfast? I actually got them to bed at a decent hour, so they should be following the call of their stomachs down to the Great Hall momentarily," Ally said.

"Yeah!" Ok, that came out a bit too eagerly. Sigh, why must everyone laugh at me?

So I took the fastest shower on record (about 1.5 minutes, beat that!) and changed into a pair of charming jeans and a t-shirt.

Ally and I walked down the stairs and in a wonderfully awesome coincidence (I love the universe!) we met up with our favorite (and only) boyfriends on the landing.

"James!" I said, excitedly and practically threw myself around his neck. Being exuberant is a good thing, or so I will keep telling myself.

"Morning, cupcake, who let you out of the Hospital Wing?"

Why does everyone ask me that? And "cupcake"? I know there's something going on with the food thing now!

"I was released," I said, dishing him my "I love you, but you weren't being very nice" glare. I just came up with it actually, patent pending, so hands off.

Boy, is he looking fine this morning. _Sigh_, too much wonderfulness too early in the morning. I rested my head on his chest and snuggled in for the long haul. Is it bad to be obsessed with listening to him breathe? In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, this is really nice, in, out, in, out, in, out … I'm so glad no one can read my thoughts. Except you government perverts! I haven't forgotten about you, don't you go thinking I have, and when I find you, you will … will regret spying most profusely!

"Lily, darling, you ok? Ready for breakfast?" James said, pushing me away a bit, so he could look in my eyes.

"Oh … heh … yeah." Drat it, I forgot we were in public. I need to add that to that stupid list of things I have to work on in order to be a more normal and functional in this relationship and as a person in general. At least I'm not insane … or more so that usual.

The Great Hall was nearly empty. James and I sat next to each other and Sirius and Ally sat across from us. Dude, I just realized something: We can so double date! Wicked awesome!

James is making eating hard. He's not doing anything per say except eating, but he's just so handsome (even while chewing) that I'm having a hard time concentrating eating. Yummy masculine jaw line, roguish floppy hair … rats, he caught me staring … again.

"Not hungry?" He asked, eyeing my still full plate.

"Oh, no, I am," I said, sheepishly eyeing my plate. Must stop staring. I will pretend he's not there. I'm not looking at him. I'm not looking at him. Was that his shadow? I'm looking at him … oh well.

He smiled at me and speared one of the fruit slices on my plate with his fork.

Is he eating my food?

"Open up," James said, waving the fork in front of my face.

He wants to FEED me! Even more bizarre.

I hesitantly opened my mouth and ate the proffered slice of pineapple.

James smiled goofily at me and then went back to his own food. I sometimes wonder about that boy.

"I'm so lucky I found you," he said out of the blue, surprising me with my mouth half full of French toast.

I swallowed and looked at him.

"You're lucky I had the guts to tell you I loved you, so really if it weren't for me, we wouldn't be together at all," I countered. It's so true. I rock something wicked.

"No way, if it weren't for me letting you find out that I loved you we wouldn't have gotten together."

"You didn't do that on purpose, though! And I'd never have been in the position to overhear it if I hadn't been in the Hospital Wing." I have him there.

"Well, you wouldn't have been in the Hospital Wing if you hadn't saved me, which I can claim credit for since I was the one in danger."

"That's warped reasoning, but it doesn't matter because if I hadn't sat beside you, I'd never have had to take that curse for you."

"But I'd never have let you have that seat if it weren't for all those kisses I'd been giving you."

"You can't take full credit for those, mister. I had a full bit of participation in those."

"Not at first." Which isn't my fault. I was still in denial.

"Well, neither did you at first!"

"So really, this can all be traced back to those flimsy desks in the Transfiguration room," James said.

"Actually, I think it goes back to the _whoosh_ I felt that morning at breakfast. I'd never have been so clumsy if it weren't for that." I have a wicked awesome point there.

"So basically you guys both owe me oodles of thanks and praise!" Sirius interjected.

"Huh?" James and I chorused. His reasoning makes no sense. Probably because there was none involved.

"Well, if I hadn't put that spell on you and Lily, you two would never have gotten together," Sirius said, like it was the most simple thing in the world to understand, then went back to eating his eggs like he hadn't just said something life changing (you know, like "I'm not your father," or "Darth Vader's your father," or "You're actually a member of the Brady Bunch").

"Spell?" James, Ally, and I all yelled at the same time.

"I beg your pardon?" I said, rounding off the confusion.

"Actually, it was an inspired idea, really," Sirius said, completely missing the fact everyone else was about comatose with confusion, "I was thinking about you two and your issues when it just came to me out of the blue. What if you _had_ to resolve your issues? But then, I couldn't figure out the best way to force you two to resolve them. So I was sitting there playing with these … ahem," (Sirius is blushing now) "… stuffed animals that Ally, dearest, gave me and I thought, 'What if they were kissing each other all the time?' So I cast a spell on you that pretty much put magnets in your lips. Then if you guys got too close to each other, whamo, kissing. Basically," he said, steepling his fingers like a crazed psychiatrist, "I turned you guys into life sized Kiss-Kiss Bears."

I just stared at Sirius, open-mouthed. Did he just say what I think he said? Does he _own_ a pair of Kiss-Kiss Bears? Well, I'd never have guessed, he seems like such a manly man. I love Kiss-Kiss Bears; they're so adorable. I actually have a pair of Kiss-Kiss Mooses, Kiss-Kiss Snowmen, and Kiss-Kiss Piggy Banks as well. They have magnets in their noses/mouths so they kiss and they have Velcro on their hands, so they hold hands too! So cute!

Wait … did he just say he turned James and I into Kiss-Kiss Bears?

"I KNEW IT!"

Everyone turned to look at me and I blushed. But still … I knew it!

"I knew there were magnets in our lips. That was my theory. I figured it was magnets or our heads were being tied together by strings!"

"Wait," I said, a horrible thought striking me, "You mean, the only reason we kiss is because of the magnets?" Oh dear, lord. What if we don't really love each other? I love him; I know I do. I just don't get this.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sirius said, with a rather amused grin, "The spell wore off long before your little stunt with the Divination table. I thought that made it pretty evident you two were meant for each other. True love, all because of me. Am I wonderful or what?"

"And conceited," Ally said, poking him.

This certainly puts a whole new spin on my life as of late. For starters I'm even semi-not insane. Sort of.

I looked at James and he smiled and shrugged in a "what can you do, he's just my nutters best mate" way.

I smiled too and leaned in for a kiss. I don't know what Sirius means about the spell wearing off. This seems pretty magnetic to me. After all, who can defy the forces of physics? I love physics!

"Hey, so for services rendered do I get to be Best Man at the wedding? I'll give the greatest Best Man speech ever, I swear! And dibs on being Godfather. I do get to be godfather right? Just of the first mini-Potter, after that, Remus can have one too, but I want the first one!"

Well … with 8 we should have enough to go around.

**ooo…ooo**

The End

Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you enjoyed it and the ending was decent (or even better, excellent). If you want to review I have a bit of a question for you to answer:

Did the ending confuse you? And do I need to explain the whole spell thing better?

If confusion is rampant I will add an epilogue of some sort that will hopefully set it all up in a non-confuzzling way.

It's been quite an adventure and I appreciate everyone sticking with me (especially with my terrible update lengths as of late)!

I don't know if anyone is interested, but I actually do have another fic in the works (aka my mind). It won't be up for god knows how long and I doubt it'll be as good as Kissing the Enemy (what can be, eh?), but, who knows, it might be worth your time.

And a final thank you to the Bestest, Brilliantly Blinding, and Bumble-less Beta Daystar! You are my savior and my commas love you. They want to know if they can stay with you when I go to college?


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